Chapter M (4)

Altho it is possible that a case may happen, in which the creation of a Dictator might be the only resort to save life, liberty, property and the State, as it happened in Rome more than once; yet I should dread his power as much as any man, were I not convinced that the same men that appointed him, could, in a moment, strip him of his tremendous authority. A Dictator, with an army superior to the strength of the State, would be a despot; but Mr. Jefferson's fears seem grounded on the authority derived from the Legislature. A concession of power from the Legislature, or the people, is a voluntary suspension of a natural _unalienable_ right; and is resumeable at the expiration of the period specified, or the moment it is abused. A State can never alienate a _natural right_; for it cannot legislate for those who are not in existence. It may consent to suspend that right for great and temporary purposes; but were every freeman in Virginia to assent to the creation of a _perpetual Dictator_, the act in itself would be void. The expedient of creating a Dictator is dangerous, and no free people would willingly resort to it; but there may be times when this expedient is necessary to save a State from ruin, and when every man in a State would cheerfully give his suffrage for adopting it. At the same time, a temporary investiture of unlimited powers in one man, may be abused; it may be an influential precedent; and the continuance of it, may furnish the Dictator with the means of perpetuating his office. The distress of a people must be extreme, before a serious thought of a Dictator can be justifiable. But the people who create, can annihilate a Dictator; their right to govern themselves cannot be resigned by any act whatever, altho extreme cases may vindicate them in suspending the exercise of it. Even prescription cannot exist against this right; and _every_ nation in Europe has a _natural_ right to depose its King, and take the government into its own hands; altho it may forever be inexpedient for any of them to exercise the right.

No. VI.

NEW YORK, 1788.

ON GOVERNMENT.

I have said,[31] "that the people ought not to give binding instructions to Representativs." "That they cannot exercise any act of supremacy or legislation at all but in a Convention of the whole State, or of the Representativs of the whole State." And "That the right of election is the _only_ constitutional right which they can with propriety exercise." That these positions, however repugnant to the received opinions of the present age, are capable of political demonstration, is to me unquestionable. They all convey nearly the same idea, and if true, they contravene, in some measure, a fundamental maxim of American politics, which is, that "the sovereign power resides in the people."

[31] No. II. IV. V.

I am not desirous of subverting this favorite maxim; but I am very desirous it should be properly qualified and understood; for the abuse of it is capable of shaking any government; and I have no doubt that the mistakes which this maxim has introduced, have been the principal sources of rebellion, tumult and disorder in several of the American States.

It is doubtless true, that the individuals who compose a political society or State, have a sovereign right to establish what form of government they please in their own territories. But in order to deliberate upon the subject, they must all convene together, as in Rome and Athens; or must send deputies, vested with powers to act for them, as is the practice in England and America. If they adopt the first method, then the Supreme Legislativ power resides, to all intents and purposes, in the whole body of the people. If, from the local circumstances of the people, the whole body cannot meet for deliberation, then the Legislativ powers do not reside in the people at large, but in an assembly of men delegated by the whole body.

To prove this last position, it is necessary to enquire, what is the object of law, and on what principles ought it to be founded? A law, if I understand the term, is an act of the _whole State_, operating upon the _whole State_, either by command or prohibition: It is thus distinguished from a _resolve_ which more properly respects an individual or a part of the State.[32] The object of a law is to prevent positiv evil or produce positiv good to the _whole State_; not merely to a particular part. The principle therefore on which all laws should be founded, is, _a regard to the greatest good which can be produced to the greatest number of individuals in the State_. The principle is so obvious, that I presume it will not be controverted. Permit me then to enquire, whether the people of any district, county or town, in their local meetings, are competent to judge of this _general good_? A law, which is, in its operation _general_, must be founded on the best _general information_: The people themselves have no right to consent to a law, without this general information: They have no right to consent to a law, on a view of a local interest; nor without hearing the objections and arguments, and examining the amendments, suggested by every part of the community, which is to be affected by that law. To maintain the contrary is to defend the most glaring contradictions. But can the inhabitants, in detached associations, be acquainted with these objections and arguments? Can they know the minds of their brethren at the distance of three or five hundred miles? If they cannot, they do not possess the right of legislation. Little will it avail to say, that the people acquire the necessary information by newspapers, or other periodical publications: There are not more than two States in the thirteen, where one half the freemen read the public papers. But if every freeman read the papers, this would not give him the information necessary to qualify him for a Legislator; for but a small part of the intelligence they contain is official, which alone can be the ground of law; nor can the collectiv sense of a nation or state be gathered from newspapers. The whole body of people, or Representativs of the whole body, are the only vehicles of information which can be trusted, in forming a judgement of the true interest of the whole State.

[32] It is a capital defect in some of the States, that the
government is so organized as not to admit subordinate acts
of legislation in small districts. In these States, every
little collection of people in a village must petition the
Legislature for liberty to lay out a highway or build a
bridge; an affair in which the State at large has very little
interest, and of the necessity and utility of which the
Legislature are not suitable judges. This occasions much
trouble for the State; it is a needless expense. A State
should be divided into inferior corporations, veiled with
powers competent to all acts of local police. What right have
the inhabitants of Suffolk to interfere in the building of a
bridge in Montgomery?[a] Who are the most competent judges of
a local convenience; the whole State, or the inhabitants of
the particular district?

[a] This was written in New York.

If the _collectiv sense_ of a State is the basis of law, and that sense can be known officially no where but in an Assembly of all the people or of their Representativs; or in other words, if there can be no such thing as a _collection of sentiments_ made in any other manner, than by a Convention of the whole people or their Delegates, where is the right of _instructing Representativs_? The sense of the people, taken in small meetings, without a general knowlege of the objections, and reasonings of the whole State, ought not to be considered as the true sense of the State; for not being possessed of the best general information, the people often form wrong opinions of their own interest. Had I the journals of the several Legislatures in America, I would prove to every man's satisfaction, that most of the schemes for paper money, tender laws, suspension of laws for the recovery of debts, and most of the destructiv measures which have been pursued by the States, have originated in towns and counties, and been carried by positiv instructions from constituents to Representativs. The freemen, in these cases, have wrong ideas of their own interest; their error, in the first instance, is ascribeable merely to ignorance, or a want of that just information, which they themselves would obtain in a General Assembly.[33] The right therefore of prescribing rules to govern the votes of Representativs, which is so often assumed, frequently amounts to a right of doing infinite mischief, with the best intentions. There is perhaps no case in which the people at large are so capable of knowing and pursuing their own interest, as their Delegates are when assembled for consultation and debate. But the practice of giving binding instructions to Representativs, if it has any foundation, is built on this maxim, that the constituents, on a view of their local interests, and either with none, or very imperfect information, are better judges of the propriety of a law, and of the general good, than the most judicious men are (for such generally are the Representativs) after attending to the best official information from every quarter, and after a full discussion of the subject in an Assembly, where clashing interests conspire to detect error, and suggest improvements. This maxim is obviously false; and a practice built on it, cannot fail to produce laws, inaccurate, contradictory, capricious and subversive of the first rights of men. Perhaps no country, except America, ever experienced the fatal effects of this practice, and I blush to remark, what candor itself must avow, that few arbitrary governments, have in so short a period, exhibited so many _legal infractions_ of sacred right; so many public invasions of private property; so many wanton abuses of legislativ powers! Yet the people are generally honest; and as well informed as the people of any country. Their errors proceed from ignorance; from false maxims of governments. The people attempt to legislate without the necessary qualifications for lawgivers; yes, _they legislate at home!_ and while this practice subsists, our public measures will be often weak, imperfect, and changeable; and sometimes _extremely iniquitous_. From these considerations, it appears that the powers of a Representativ should be wholly discretionary when he acts as a Legislator; but as an agent for a town or small society, he may have positiv instructions. His constituents, in the last case, are competent to instruct him, because they are the whole body concerned; but in the first instance, they are but a part of the State, and not competent to judge fully of the interest of the whole.

[33] An error, originating in mistake, is often pursued thro
obstinacy and pride; and sometimes a familiarity with
_falsehood_, makes it appear like _truth_.

To place the matter in the strongest point of light, let us suppose a small State, in which the whole body of people meet for the purpose of making laws. Suppose in this democracy, the people of a town or other district should desire a particular act, for instance, a tender law. Would the inhabitants of this town, have a right to meet a few weeks before the General Assembly, where they all would expect to be present, to debate and vote; and in this town meeting take an oath, or otherwise bind themselves to vote for the act? Would they have a right to shut their ears against argument; to lay a restraint upon their own minds; to exclude the possibility of conviction, and solemnly swear to vote in a certain manner, whether right or wrong! If in this case, the people of a district have no right to lay a restraint upon themselves before they enter the General Assembly, neither have they a right, in representativ democracies, to lay such a restraint upon their Delegates. The very reason why they are incompetent to direct their _Deputies_, is that they cannot determine how to act _themselves_, till they come into the Assembly. The very doctrine of representation in government excludes the right of giving binding instructions to Deputies. The design of choosing Representativs is to _collect the wisdom of the State_; the Deputies are _to unite_ their Councils; _to meet_ and _consult for_ the public safety: But positiv instructions prevent this effect; they are dictated by local interests, or opinions formed on an imperfect view of facts and arguments; in short they totally counteract the good effects of public deliberations, and prevent those salutary measures which may result from united Councils. They make the opinions of a small part of the State a rule for the whole; they imply a decision of a question, before it is heard; they reduce a Representativ to a mere machine, by restraining the exercise of his reason; they subvert the very principles of republican government.

But let us attend to the inconsistency of the practice. The oath required of a Representativ, before he takes his seat, binds him to vote or act from a regard to the public good, _according to his judgement_ and _the best of his abilities_. Some of the Constitutions contain an oath that binds a Representativ, _not to assent to, or vote for, any act that he shall deem injurious to the people_. But what opinion, what judgement can a man exercise, who is under the restraint of positiv instructions? Suppose a man so instructed should in conscience believe that a bill, if enacted, would be prejudicial to his constituents, yet his orders bind him to vote for it; how would he act between his oath and his instructions? In his oath he has sworn to act according to his judgment, and for the good of the people; his instructions forbid him to use his judgment, and bind him to vote for a law which he is convinced will injure his constituents. He must then either abandon his orders or his oath; perjury or disobedience is his only alternativ.

This is no imaginary situation; I presume that many men have experienced it. One very worthy member of the Legislature in this State[34] a few years since, was in that very predicament; and I heard him express great anxiety upon the occasion.

[34] New York.

How noble was the conduct of that gentleman in Sandwich (Mass.) who, being chosen to represent the town in the late Convention, and instructed to vote against the Constitution, _at all events; notwithstanding any thing that might be said in favor of it_; rather than submit to be fettered in this manner, resigned his appointment. The name of this gentleman, THOMAS BOURN, Esq. ought to be held in veneration by every true friend to his country, and his address to the electors on that occasion, ought to be written in letters of gold. It is recorded in these words: "Fellow Townsmen--The line of conduct which has appeared to me right, I have ever wished to pursue. In the decline of life, when a few revolving suns at most will bring me to the bar of impartial justice, I am unwilling to adopt a different, and less honest mode of acting. It is true, my sentiments at present are not in favor of the Constitution; open however to conviction, they may be very different, when the subject is fairly discussed by able and upright men. To place myself in a situation, where conviction could be followed only by a bigotted persistence in error, would be extremely disagreeable to me. Under the restrictions with which your Delegates are fettered, _the greatest ideot may answer your purpose as well as the greatest man_. The suffrages of our fellow men, when they neither repose confidence in our integrity, nor pay a tribute of respect to our abilities, can never be agreeable. I am therefore induced positivly to decline accepting a seat in Convention, whilst I sincerely wish you, gentlemen, and my countrymen, every blessing which a wise and virtuous administration of a free government can secure."

Such a bold and honest independence of mind are the marks of a good Legislator. With such men as Mr. Bourn, in the legislativ department, our lives, liberties and properties are safe. Such a genius, rising amidst the obscurity of errors and false maxims, like a star emerging from chaos, spreads the rays of truth and illuminates the surrounding hemisphere. Considering the circumstances in which this gentleman was then placed, I had rather be the author of that short address, than of all the labored dissertations which have been written upon the proposed constitution.

Another error, which is connected with the practice of instructing Representativs, and may perhaps be one cause of it, is the opinion that a Deputy chosen by a certain number of freemen, is _their Representativ only_ or _particularly_: It seems to be believed that a Representativ is bound to attend to the _particular interest of the men who elect him_, rather than to the _general interest_. If this were true, it would obviate, in some measure, the objections against instructions. But with respect to every general act, the opinion is _clearly false_. The reason why men are chosen by small societies of freemen, and not by the whole body, is, that the whole body cannot be well acquainted with the most able men in the different parts of the State. It is the best expedient to correct the defects of government, or rather, it is the best _practicable_ mode of election. To render the mode perfect, the _whole body of freemen_ should be at liberty to choose their Delegates from the _whole body_. This would destroy, in a great measure, the local views and attachments which now embarrass government; every Representativ would be chosen by the whole body; and the interest of the whole number of constituents would be his object.

This mode is either impracticable or hazardous; notwithstanding this, when a Delegate is elected by a _part_ of the State, he is really the Representativ of the _whole_, as much as if he were _elected_ by the whole. The constituents of every Representativ are not solely those who _voted_ for him, but the _whole State_, and the man that acts from a _local_ interest, and attends merely to the wishes of those men who elected him, violates his oath, and abuses his trust. Hence the absurdity of instructions, which are generally dictated by a partial interest, and can perhaps in no case be the sole rule of a Legislator's conduct. When therefore a Representativ says, _such is the wish of my constituents; such are their directions_; his declaration is but partially true; for his instructions are the wishes of a _part_ only of his constituents. His constituents, whom he actually represents, and whose greatest interest is the sole rule of his conduct, are _the whole body of freemen_. This is an important truth, and I must repeat it; the man who is deputed to make laws for a State, and suffers a local interest to influence his conduct, abuses a sacred trust; and the Representativ who obeys his instructions, in opposition to the conviction of his own mind, arising from a general view of public good, _is guilty of a species of perjury_.

Such are the opinions, which after long deliberation, I have formed respecting the principles of a republican government. I feel a diffidence in publishing sentiments so repugnant to the principles received by my countrymen and recognized by some of the State Constitutions. But a strong persuasion of the truth of these opinions, acquired by reasoning, and confirmed by several years observations, forbids me to suppress them.

A summary of the truths, deduced from the foregoing reasoning, is this: That the power of a State is at all times equal; that neither the people themselves, nor a Convention of their Delegates, have either the power or the right to make an unalterable Constitution; that the power of creating a legislativ body, or the sovereign right of election, is solely in the people; but the sovereign power of making laws is solely in an Assembly of their Representativs; that the people have no right to give binding instructions to their Representativs; consequently a distinction between a _Convention_ and a _Legislature_, can be merely a difference of _forms_; that Representativs have no right to prolong the period of their delegation; that being taken from the mass of the people, and having a common interest with them, they will be influenced, even by private interest, to promote the public good; and that such a government, which is a novelty on earth, is perhaps the best that can be framed, and the only form which will always have for its object, the general good.

No. VII.

PHILADELPHIA, 1787.

REMARKS _on the_ MANNERS, GOVERNMENT, _and_ DEBT _of the_ UNITED STATES.

Since the declaration and establishment of a general peace, and since this country has had an opportunity to experience the effects of her independence, events have taken place, which were little expected by the friends of the revolution. It was expected, that on the ratification of peace, by the belligerent powers, America would enjoy perfect political tranquillity. The statesman in his closet, and the divine in his addresses to heaven, predicted and anticipated the happy period, when every man would rest, unmolested, under his own vine and his own fig tree. The merchant foresaw, in vision, the ports of all nations open to his ships, and the returns of a favorable commerce pouring wealth into his coffers. The honest laborer, in the shop and the field, was told that independence and peace would forever remove the fears of oppression, would lighten his burthen, and give him legal security for the uninterrupted possession of his rights. This flattering prospect inspired an irresistible enthusiasm in war. The contention for freedom was long and arduous; the prize was obtained; the delusion vanished, and America is surprized at the disappointment.

Instead of general tranquillity, _one_ State has been involved in a civil war, and most of them are torn with factions, which weaken or destroy the energy of government. Instead of a free commerce with all the world, our trade is every where fettered with restraints and impositions, dictated by foreign interest; and instead of pouring wealth into our country, its present tendency is, to impoverish both the merchant and the public. Instead of legal security of rights under governments of our own choice, and under our own control, we find property at least unsafe, even in our best toned government. Our charters may be wrested from us without a fault, our contracts may be changed or set aside without our consent, by the breath of a popular Legislature. Instead of a dimunition of taxes, our public charges are multiplied; and to the weight of accumulating debts, we are perpetually making accessions by expensiv follies. Instead of a union of States and measures, essential to the welfare of a great nation, each State is jealous of its neighbor, and struggling for the superiority in wealth and importance, at the hazard even of our federal existence.

This is the dark side of our public affairs; but such are the facts. The public and private embarrassments, which are both seen and felt, are the topics of incessant declamation. The rhapsodies of orators, and the publications in gazettes, from the northern to the southern extremity of the United States, concur in deprecating the present state of this country, and communicate the intelligence of our distresses to the whole civilized world. Nor are newspapers the only heralds of our calamities. The contempt of government among one class of men, the silent murmurs of poverty in the peaceful cottage, and numerous bankrupts in every quarter, are irresistible evidence to a thinking mind, that something is wrong.

But declamation is idle, and murmurs fruitless. Time has been when the minds of people were alarmed at the approaches of despotism: Then harangues roused attention; then mobs raised the temple of freedom, and declared themselves ready to be sacrificed upon her altar. But violent passions in the public as well as in the human body, are always transitory. That enthusiasm which was called _public spirit, heroic virtue, and love of country_, has long ago subsided, and is absorbed in the general steady principle, private interest. That enthusiasm is not to be rekindled. The expostulations of our rulers and patriotic writers, have no more effect in reviving public spirit, than the attraction of a meteor in raising a tide.

Men, who embraced revolution principles, because independence might save a few shillings in taxes, or extend the imaginary sphere of freedom; who expected that peace would place them in a paradise of blessings, where they might riot without the fatigue of exertion; such men had narrow views of the consequence of detaching America from a transatlantic jurisdiction. They viewed but a small part of the great event: They are, they _ought to be_ disappointed. Such men expect effects without causes, and are ready to despond, or commence enemies to a glorious event, because miracles are not wrought to verify their ill founded predictions.

In this view, this insect view of things, the revolution ought to be considered as extremely unfortunate; for to the present generation, it must certainly prove so.

But on the general scale of human happiness, every man of reflection must rejoice at the illustrious event. Even the propriety of the independence of these States, is so obviously dictated by their local situation, that a generous European ought to have consented to the measure on this single principle. But taking into consideration the vast field which is here opened for improvements in science, in government, in religion, and in morals; the philosopher will felicitate himself with the prospect of discoveries favorable to arts and happiness; the statesman will rejoice that there is a retreat from the vassalage of Europe; the divine will bless God that a place has been reserved for an uncorrupted church; and the philanthropist, who compares the yeomanry of America with the peasantry of Europe, will congratulate himself on an event which has removed millions of people from the ambition of princes, and from a participation of the vices, which mark the decline of nations.

The revolution of America, whatever may be the present effects, must, on the universal scale of policy, prove fortunate, not only for the parties, but for mankind in general. The period, however, when this country will realize the happy consequences of her separation, must be remote; probably beyond the lives of the present generation.

It is worth our curiosity to inquire into the causes of our present political evils; not the more obvious causes, which every man sees and laments, but those radical causes which lie hid from common observation; whose operations are imperceptible, but whose effects are visible, even to a vulgar eye.

A fundamental mistake of the Americans has been, that they considered the revolution as completed, when it was but just begun. Having raised the pillars of the building, they ceased to exert themselves, and seemed to forget that the whole superstructure was then to be erected. This country is independent in government; but totally dependent in manners, which are the basis of government. Men seem not to attend to the difference between Europe and America, in point of age and improvement; and are disposed to rush, with heedless emulation, into an imitation of manners, for which we are not prepared.

Every person tolerably well versed in history, knows that nations are often compared to individuals and to vegetables, in their progress from their origin to maturity and decay. The resemblance is striking and just. This progress is as certain in nations as in vegetables; it is as obvious, and its causes more easily understood; in proportion as the secret springs of action in government are more easily explained, than the mechanical principles of vegetation.

This progress therefore being assumed as a conceded fact, suggests a forcible argument against the introduction of European manners into America. The business of men in society is, first, to secure their persons and estates by arms and wholesome laws; then to procure the conveniences of life by arts and labor; but it is in the last stages only of national improvement, when luxury and amusements become public benefits, by dissipating accumulations of wealth, and furnishing employment and food for the poor. And luxury then is not beneficial, except when the wealth of a nation is wasted within itself. It is perhaps always true, that an old civilized nation cannot, with propriety, be the model for an infant nation, either in morals, in manners or fashions, in literature or in government.

The present ambition of Americans is, to introduce as fast as possible, the fashionable amusements of the European courts. Considering the former dependence of America on England, her descent, her connexion and present intercourse, this ambition cannot surprise us. But it must check this ambition to reflect on the consequences. It will not be denied, that there are vices predominant in the most polite cities in Europe, which are not only unknown, but are seldom mentioned in America; and vices that are infamous beyond conception. I presume it will not be denied that there must be an amazing depravation of mind in a nation, where a farce is a publication of more consequence than Milton's Poem; and where an opera dancer, or an Italian singer, receives a salary equal to that of an Ambassador. The facts being known and acknowleged, I presume the consequence will not be denied. Not that this charge is good against every individual; even in the worst times, there will be found many exceptions to the general character of a nation.

If these vices and the depravation of mind do actually exist, it is a proof of a gradual corruption; for there was a time when they did not exist. There was a time when decency was a virtue, even at Venice. The progress is also slow, unless hastened by some external circumstances. It was more than two thousand years from the building of Rome to the pontificate of Alexander the VIth whose naked revelings filled the measure of public vice, and strike the human mind with horror.

A constant increase of wealth is ever followed by a multiplication of vices: This seems to be the destiny of human affairs; wisdom, therefore, directs us to retard, if possible, and not to accelerate the progress of corruption. But an introduction of the fashionable diversions of Europe into America, is an acceleration of the growth of vices which are yet in their infancy, and an introduction of new ones too infamous to be mentioned. A dancing school among the Tuscaroras, is not a greater absurdity than a masquerade in America. A theater, under the best regulations, is not essential to our public and private happiness. It may afford entertainment to individuals; but it is at the expense of private taste and public morals. The great misfortune of all exhibitions of this kind is this; that they reduce all taste to a level. Not only the vices of all classes of people are brought into view, but of all ages and nations. The intrigues of a nobleman, and the scurrility of shoe blacks, are presented to the view of both sexes, of all ages; the vices of the age of Elizabeth and of Charles IId are recorded by the masterly pens of a Shakespeare and a Congreve, and by repeated representation, they are "hung on high," as the poet expresses it, "to poison half mankind." The fact is, that all characters must be presented upon a theater, because all characters are spectators; and a nobleman and a sailor, a dutchess and a washer woman, that attend constantly on the exhibitions of vice, become equally depraved; their tastes will be nearly alike as to vice; the one is as prepared for a crime as the other. It is for this reason, that many of the amusements of nations more depraved than ourselves, are highly pernicious in this country. They carry us forward by hasty strides, to the last stages of corruption; a period that every benevolent man will deprecate and endeavor to retard. This circumstance, the difference in the stages of our political existence, should make us shun the vices which may be politic and even necessary in older states; and endeavor to preserve our manners by being our own standards. By attaching ourselves to foreign manners, we counteract the good effects of the revolution, or rather render them incomplete. A revolution in the form of government, is but a revolution in name; unless attended with a change of principles and manners, which are the springs of government.

This leads me to treat more particularly of the influence of fashions on the interests of these States; an article in which the ladies are deeply interested.

Fashion in itself is a matter of indifference, as affecting neither morals nor politeness. It is of no consequence whether a lady is clad with a gown or a frock; or whether a gentleman appears in public with a cap or a wig. But there may be times and situations in which the most trifling things become important. The practice of imitating foreign modes of dress, cannot cost America less than 100,000l. a year. I speak not of the necessary articles of dress; but merely of changes of fashions.

To understand this fact, it is necessary to advert to the different circumstances of this country, and of the European kingdoms, which we take as our models.

Two circumstances distinguish most of the commercial countries of Europe from America; a feudal division of real property, and manufactures. Where vast estates are hereditary and unalienable, a great part of the people are dependent on the rich, and if the rich do not employ them, they must starve. Thus in England and France, a great landholder possesses a hundred times the property that is necessary for the subsistence of a family; and each landlord has perhaps a hundred families dependent on him for subsistence. On this statement, if the landlord should live penuriously, and supply his own family only with necessaries, all his dependents must starve. In order to subsist the ninety nine families, he must create wants, which their employment must supply; for the natural wants of a few rich people will not furnish employment for great multitudes of poor. Hence the good policy, the necessity of luxury in most European kingdoms. Hence originate all the changes and varieties of fashion. A gentleman or lady in London must not appear in public twice in the same suit. This is a regulation of custom, but it is highly political; for were the nobility and rich gentry to wear out all their clothes, one half the people must be beggars. The fashions of England and France are not merely matter of fancy: Fancy may dictate new and odd figures in dress; but the general design of frequent and continual changes of fashion, is wise systematic policy, at the courts of London and Paris.

But let us see with how little discretion and policy _we_ adopt foreign luxuries. America is a young country, with small inequalities of property, and without manufactures. Few people are here dependent on the rich, for every man has an opportunity of becoming rich himself. Consequently few people are supported by the luxuries of the wealthy; and even these few are mostly foreigners.

But we have no body of manufacturers to support by dissipation. All our superfluities are imported, and the consumption of them in this country enriches the merchants and supports the poor of Europe. We are generous indeed! generous to a fault. This is the pernicious, the fatal effect of our dependence on foreign nations for our manners. We labor day and night, we sacrifice our peace and reputation, we defraud our public creditors, involve ourselves in debts, impoverish our country: Nay, many are willing to become bankrupts and take lodgings in a prison, for the sake of being as foolish as those nations which subsist their poor and grow rich and respectable by their follies.

No objection can be made to rich and elegant dresses among people of affluent circumstances. But perhaps we may safely calculate that one third of the expenses incurred by dress in this country, add nothing either to convenience or elegance.

A new dress is invented in London or Paris, not for the sake of superior elegance, because it frequently happens that a new dress is less rich and elegant than an old one; but for the sake of giving food to manufacturers. That new fashion is sent across the Atlantic; let it be ever so troublesome and uncouth, we admire its novelty; we adopt it because it is fashionable; and merely for a change, that may be made in half an hour by a tailor or a milliner, 20, 30, or 50,000 pounds are drawn from the capital stocks of property in America, to enrich nations which command our commerce and smile at our folly.

But it is not only the wealth of this country that is sacrificed by our servile imitation of other nations; our complaisance often requires us to dispense with good taste.

It will probably be admitted that amidst the infinite variety of dresses which are fashionable, during a course of ten or fifteen years, some of them must be more convenient and elegant than others. True taste in dress consists in setting off the person to the best advantage. That dress which unites the articles of convenience, simplicity and neatness, in the greatest perfection, must be considered as the most elegant. But true taste goes farther; it has reference to age, to shape, to complexion, and to the season of the year. The same dress which adorns a miss of fifteen, will be frightful on a venerable lady of seventy. The same dress will embellish one lady and disfigure another. But the passive disposition of Americans in receiving every mode that is offered them, sometimes reduces all ages, shapes and complexions to a level.

I will not undertake to say that people ought not, in the article of dress, to sacrifice taste to national interest. A sacrifice of that kind, in a manufacturing country, may be laudable; it will at least be pardonable. But in a reverse of situation, in America, where a waste of property and a group of political evils accompany a bad taste, the sacrifice admits of no apology.

It is not unfrequent to hear ladies complain severely of the inconvenience of fashion. Their good sense disapproves and their taste revolts at incumbrances. And yet where is the lady who would not sooner submit to any fatigue, rather than be ridiculous. I speak of ladies particularly; in point of expense, the gentlemens' dresses are exceptionable as well as the ladies; in point of convenience, the ladies are the greatest sufferers by fashion, as their dress admits of the greatest variety of incumbrances.

Perhaps the trouble of conforming entirely to the fashions of Europe is as great a tax upon the ladies, as the expense is to their husbands and parents.

One society of people, the Friends, are happily released from the tyranny and inconveniencies of fashion. However disagreeable the restraints of their religion may appear in other respects, it must be acknowledged that, in point of dress, the rules of their society conform to purity of taste.

Perhaps we may safely estimate, that the ladies of that society dress with two thirds of the expense which other ladies incur, even when the articles of their dress are equally rich and expensiv; the difference is saved by neglecting superfluous finery. And are not their taste in dress, their simplicity and neatness, universally admired? Does it not set off their persons to the best advantage? Do not gentlemen almost universally give the preference to the taste of Quaker ladies? Nay, I would ask, whether other ladies themselves, under a strong bias in favor of a tawdry dress, are not frequently lavishing encomiums on the superior elegance and convenience of the Friends' dresses? And how often do they sigh beneath the trouble of their own dress, and wish that particular articles would go out of fashion.

If there is any thing on earth, which can make a rational mind disgusted with society, it is that cruel necessity, which obliges a person to sacrifice both his interest and his taste, or run the hazard of being laughed at for his singularity.

In some Asiatic countries, people never change their modes of dress. This uniformity, which continues for ages, proceeds from the same principles as the monthly changes in England and France; both proceed from necessity and policy. Both arise from good causes which operate in the several governments; that is, the manners of each government are subservient to its particular interest. The reverse is true of this country. Our manners are wholly subservient to the interest of foreign nations. Where do we find, in dress or equipage, the least reference to the circumstances of this country! Is it not the sole ambition of the Americans to be just like other nations, without the means of supporting the resemblance? We ought not to harbor any spleen or prejudice against foreign kingdoms. This would be illiberal. They are wise, they are respectable. We should despise the man that piques himself on his own country, and treats all others with indiscriminate contempt. I wish to see much less jealousy and ill nature subsisting between the Americans and English. But in avoiding party spirit and resentment on the one hand, we should be very careful of servility on the other. There is a manly pride in true independence, which is equally remote from insolence and meanness; a pride that is characteristic of great minds. Have Americans discovered this pride since the declaration of peace? We boast of independence, and with propriety. But will not the same men, who glory in this great event, even in the midst of a gasconade, turn to a foreigner and ask him, "what is the latest fashion in Europe!" He has worn an elegant suit of clothes for six weeks; he might wear it a few weeks longer, but it has not so many buttons as the last suit of my lord ----: He throws it aside, and gets one that has. The suit costs him a sum of money; but it keeps him in the fashion, and feeds the poor of Great Britain or France. It is a singular phenomenon, and to posterity it will appear incredible, that a nation of heroes, who have conquered armies, and raised an empire, should not have the spirit to say--_we will wear our clothes as we please_.

Let it not be thought that this is a trifling subject; a matter of no consequence. Mankind are governed by opinion; and while we flatter ourselves that we enjoy independence, because no foreign power can impose laws upon us, we are groaning beneath the tyranny of opinion; a tyranny more severe than the laws of monarchs; a dominion voluntary indeed, but for that reason, more effectual; an authority of manners which commands our services, and sweeps away the fruits of our labor.

I repeat the sentiment with which I began; the revolution of America is yet incomplete. We are now in a situation to answer all the purposes of the European nations; independent in government, and dependent in manners. They give us their fashions, they direct _our_ taste to make a market for _their_ commodities; they engross the profits of our industry, without the hazard of defending us, or the expense of supporting our civil government. A situation more favorable to _their_ interest, or more repugnant to our _own_, _they_ could not have chosen for us, nor _we_ embraced.

If such is the state of facts, and if the influence of foreign manners does actually defeat the purposes of the revolution; if our implicit submission to the prevailing taste of European courts, involves individuals and the public in unnecessary expenses, it is in the power of a few influential characters in each of our commercial cities to remedy the whole evil. And in a reformation of this kind, the ladies would have no inconsiderable share.

It is really a matter of astonishment, that the pride of the Americans has so long submitted tamely to a foreign yoke. Aside of all regard to interest, we should expect that the idea of being a nation of apes would mortify minds accustomed to freedom of thought, and would prompt them to spurn their chains.

Have the ladies in America no ingenuity, no taste? Do they not understand what dresses are most convenient and elegant? What modes are best adapted to the climate, or other circumstances of this country? They most certainly do. Foreigners acknowlege that the nativ beauty and understanding of the American ladies are not excelled in any country, and equalled in very few. And one would imagin that the modes of embellishing so many personal charms ought not, in all cases, to be prescribed by the milliners and manteau makers on the other side of the Atlantic. A noble pride should forbid that ladies of birth and breeding should be wholly indebted to the taste of others, for the decorations of their beauty.

When the gentlemen in America shall exercise spirit enough to be their own judges of taste in dress: When they have wisdom to consult the circumstances of this country, and fortitude enough to retain a fashion as long as their _own interest_ requires, instead of changing it when _other nations_ direct: When the ladies shall exercise the rights of their sex, and say, we will _give_ the laws of fashion to our _own nation_, instead of _receiving_ them from _another_, we will perform our part of the revolution: When both sexes shall take more pride and pleasure in being their own standards, than in being the humble imitators of those who riot on the profits of our commerce; we shall realize a new species of independence; an independence flattering to generous minds, and more productive of wealth than all the laws of power, or the little arts of national policy. And in this revolution of manners, there needs not any sacrifice of real dress. I will venture to estimate, that the retrenching of superfluous articles; articles which constitute no part of dress, and serve but to disfigure an elegant person; articles that are made and sent to us to support the sixpenny day laborers of Europe; I say, a retrenching of these trifling articles only, would be an annual saving to America sufficient to pay one half of the interest of our federal debt. We can throw no blame on foreign nations; they are wise, and profit by our want of spirit and taste.

On the footing that all mankind are brethren, perhaps it is generous in us to assist foreigners, who are a part of the Great Family.

It is to be wished, however, that we might first discharge our honest debts: That the soldier, whose labor and blood have purchased our empire, and whose services have been repaid with a shadow of reward, might be indemnified by the justice of his country: That the widow and orphan might at least receive the stipulated satisfaction for losses which money cannot repair. Yes, let us first be _just_, and then _generous_. When we have no better use for our superfluous property, then let us bestow it upon our wretched brethren of the human race. They will repay our charity with gratitude, and bless God that he has peopled one half the world with a race of freemen, to enrich the tyrants, and support the vassals of the other.

In another particular, our dependence on nations farther advanced in society than ourselves, has a very unhappy effect.

I assume it as a fact, conceded by all philosophers and historians, that there has been, in every civilized nation, a particular period of time, peculiarly favorable to literary researches; and that in this period, language and taste arrive to purity; the best authors flourish, and genius is exerted to benefit mankind.

This period in Greece was the age of Themistocles, immediately after the invasion of Xerxes. In Rome, it was the reign of Augustus Cæsar, when a revolution had left the empire in a state of tranquillity. In France, the reign of Louis the XIVth was distinguished for the number and eminence of its authors, and the correctness of taste. The corresponding period of taste in England, commenced about the middle of the sixteenth century, and ended with the reign of George the IId. Scotland was later in improvement; but perhaps has now seen its meridian splendor.

There seems to be a certain point of improvement beyond which every step in refinement is corruption; moral sentiment is postponed to wit, and sense is sacrificed to sound. This has been the case in all nations, and is now true of England. The candid among the nation acknowlege and lament the decline of true taste and science. Very few valuable writings appear in the present age; plays, novels, farces, and compilations fill the catalogue of new publications; and the library of a man of fashion consists of Chesterfield's Letters, Tristram Shandy, and a few comedies.

A gentleman in high office in London, in a letter to an eminent literary character in America, which I had the honor to read, informs, "that so low is the taste of the nation, that were Milton's Poem to be now first published, it would not find purchasers: Music and painting are the only arts that have royal encouragement." He says further, "that there is a national combination to oppose the fame of every American art, production and character." I would hope that this account is an exaggeration of the truth; but we have the best testimony to convince us that every thing is sacrificed to amusement and pleasure.

We ought not therefore to form our taste after such models: In order to write, think and act with propriety, we should go back half a century, to the style and morality of Addison and his cotemporaries; there we may find the most perfect models.

By making the present taste of Europe our standards, we not only debase our own, but we check the attempts of genius in this country.

Eminence is sometimes apt to impose errors upon people, whose respect for the character may silence all scruple, and prevent them from examining into the grounds of his opinion. Such is the implicit confidence reposed in the opinions of certain celebrated writers, that when an American ventures to call in question a received principle or opinion of theirs, his countrymen charge him with arrogance, and exclaim, how should this man be as good a judge of the subject as a foreigner! Such false notions of the perfection of particular character, fetter the mind, and in concert with credulity and idleness, prepare it for the reception of any errors, however enormous.

This same veneration for eminent foreigners, and the bewitching charms of fashion, have led the Americans to adopt the modern corruptions of our language. Very seldom have men examined the structure of the language, to find reasons for their practice. The pronunciation and use of words have been subject to the same arbitrary or accidental changes, as the shape of their garments. My lord wears a hat of a certain size and shape; he pronounces a word in a certain manner; and both must be right, for he is a fashionable man. In Europe this is right in dress; and men who have not an opportunity of learning the just rules of our language, are in some degree excuseable for imitating those whom they consider as superiors. But in men of science, this imitation can hardly be excused.

Our language was spoken in purity about eighty years ago; since which time, great numbers of faults have crept into practice about the theater and court of London. An affected erroneous pronunciation has in many instances taken place of the true; and new words or modes of speech have succeeded the ancient correct English phrases.

Thus we have, in the modern English pronunciation, their natshures, conjunctshures, constitshutions, and tshumultshuous legislatshures; and a long catalogue of fashionable improprieties. These are a direct violation of the rules of analogy and harmony; they offend the ear, and embarrass the language. Time was, when these errors were unknown; they were little known in America before the revolution. I presume we may safely say, that our language has suffered more injurious changes in America, since the British army landed on our shores, than it had suffered before, in the period of three centuries. The bucks and bloods tell us that there is no proper standard in language; that it is all arbitrary. The assertion, however, serves but to show their ignorance. There are, in the language itself, decisive reasons for preferring one pronunciation to another; and men of science should be acquainted with these reasons. But if there were none, and every thing rested on practice, we should never change a general practice without substantial reasons: No change should be introduced, which is not an obvious improvement.