great object of popular elections is, to inspire and strengthen the love of liberty. On the strength of that sentiment freedom wholly depends, not only for its security against the power of time and of enemies, but for its efficiency and reality while it lasts. If we could suppose a people perfectly indifferent to political measures, and without any disposition to take a part in public affairs, the most perfect forms and institutions of liberty would be among them a dead letter. The most elaborate machinery would stand still for want of a moving power. In proportion as a people sinks more near to that slavish apathy, their constitution becomes so far vain, and their best laws impotent. Institutions are carried into effect by men, and men are moved to action by their feelings. A system of liberty can be executed only by men who love liberty. With the spirit of liberty, very unpromising forms grow into an excellent government: without it, the most specious cannot last, and are not worth preserving. The institutions of a free state are safest and most effective, when numerous bodies of men exercise their political rights with pleasure and pride, consequently with zeal and boldness, when these rights are endeared to them by tradition and by habit, as well as by conviction and feeling of their inestimable value, — and when the mode of exercising privileges is such as to excite the sympathy of all who view it, and to spread through the whole society a jealous love of popular right, and a proneness to repel with indignation every encroachment on it. Popular elections contribute to these objects, partly by the character of the majority of the electors, and partly by the mode in which they give their suffrage. Assemblies of the people of great cities are indeed very ill qualified to exercise authority; but without their occasional use, it can never be strongly curbed. Numbers are nowhere else to be collected. On numbers alone, much of their power depends. In numerous meetings, every man catches animation from the feelings of his neighbour, and gathers courage from the strength of a multitude. Such assemblies, and they alone, with all their defects and errors, have the privilege of inspiring many human beings with a perfect, however transient, disinterestedness, and of rendering the most ordinary men capable of foregoing interest, and forgetting self, in the enthusiasm of zeal for a common cause. Their vices are a corrective of the deliberating selfishness of their superiors. Their bad, as well as good qualities, render them the portion of society the most susceptible of impressions, and the most accessible to public feelings. They are fitted to produce that democratic spirit which, tempered in its progress through the various classes of the community, becomes the vital principle of liberty. It is very true, that the occasional absurdity and violence of these meetings, often alienate men of timid virtue from the cause of liberty. It is enough for the present purpose, that in those long periods to which political reasonings must always be understood to apply, they contribute far more to excite and to second, than to offend or alarm, the enlightened friends of the rights of the people. But meetings for election are by far the safest and the most effective of all popular assemblies. They are brought together by the constitution; they have a legal character; they display the ensigns of public authority; they assemble men of all ranks and opinions; and, in them, the people publicly and conspicuously bestow some of the highest prizes pursued by a generous ambition. Hence they derive a consequence, and give a sense of self-importance, to their humblest members, which would be vainly sought for in spontaneous meetings. They lend a part of their own seriousness and dignity to other meetings occasioned by the election, and even to those which, at other times, are really, or even nominally, composed of electors. In elections, political principles cease to be mere abstractions. They are embodied in individuals; and the cold conviction of a truth, or the languid approbation of a measure, is animated by attachment for leaders, and hostility to adversaries. Every political popular elections chiefly depends on the exercise of a deliberate judgment by the electors. The whole anxiety of its advocates is to remove the causes which might disturb a considerate choice. In order to obtain such a choice, which is not the great purpose of popular elections, these speculators would deprive them of the power to excite and diffuse public spirit, — the great and inestimable service which a due proportion of such elections renders to a free state. In order to make the forms of democracy universal, their plan would universally extin passion is warmed in the contest. Even the outward circumstances of the scene strike the imagination, and affect the feelings. The recital of them daily spreads enthusiasm over a country. The various fortunes of the combat excite anxiety and agitation on all sides; and an opportunity is offered of discussing almost every political question, under circumstances in which the hearts of hearers and readers take part in the argument: till the issue of a controversy is regarded by the nation with some degree of the same solicitude as the event of a battle. In this manner is formed democratical as-guish its spirit. In a commonwealth where cendancy, which is most perfect when the greatest numbers of independent judgments influence the measures of government. Reading may, indeed, increase the number and intelligence of those whose sentiments com-jected to, as one of those remedies for licenpose public opinion; but numerous assemblies, and consequently popular elections, can alone generate the courage and zeal which form so large a portion of its power. With these effects it is apparent that secret suffrage is absolutely incompatible: they cannot exist together. Assemblies to elect, or assemblies during elections, make all suffrages known. The publicity and boldness in which voters give their suffrage are of the very essence of popular elections, and greatly contribute to their animating effect. The advocates of the Ballot tell us, indeed, that it would destroy canvass and tumult. But after the destruction of the canvass, elections would no longer teach humility to the great, nor self-esteem to the humble. Were the causes of tumult destroyed, elections would no longer be nurseries of political zeal, and instruments for rousing national spirit. The friends of liberty ought rather to view the turbulence of the people with indulgence and pardon, as powerfully tending to exercise and invigorate their public spirit. It is not to be extinguished, but to be rendered safe by countervailing institutions of an opposite tendency in other parts of the constitutional system. The original fallacy, which is the source of all erroneous reasoning in favour of the Ballot, is the assumption that the value of universal suffrage was already established, the Ballot might perhaps be admissible as an expedient for tempering such an extreme democracy. Even there, it might be ob tiousness which are likely to endanger liberty by destroying all democratic spirit;-it would be one of those dexterous frauds by which the people are often weaned from the exercise of their privileges. The system which we oppose is established in the United States of America; and it is said to be attended with no mischievous effects. To this we answer, that, in America, universal suffrage is not the rule, but the exception. In twelve out of the nineteen states* which compose that immense confederacy, the disgraceful institution of slavery deprives great multitudes not only of political franchises, but of the indefeasible rights of all mankind. The numbers of the representatives of the Slave-states in Congress is proportioned to their population, whether slaves or freemen; -a provision arising, indeed, from the most abominable of all human institutions, but recognising the just principle, that property is one of the elements of every wise representation. In many states, the white complexion is a necessary qualification for suffrage, and the disfranchised are separated from the privileged order by a physical boundary, which no individual can *This was written in 1819. In 1845 the proportion is thirteen Slave to fourteen Free states, exclusive of Texas. — ED. ever pass. In countries of slavery, where to be free is to be noble, the universal distribution of privilege among the ruling caste, is a natural consequence of the aristocratical pride with which each man regards the dignity of the whole order, especially when they are all distinguished from their slaves by the same conspicuous and indelible marks. Yet, in Virginia, which has long been the ruling state of the confederacy, even the citizens of the governing class cannot vote without the possession of a freehold estate. A real or personal estate is required in New England, the ancient seat of the character and spirit of America, the parent of those seamen, who, with a courage and skill worthy of our common forefathers, have met the followers of Nelson in war, the nursery of the intelligent and moral, as well as hardy and laborious race, who now annually colonise the vast regions of the West. But were the fact otherwise, America contains few large, and no very great towns; the people are dispersed, and agricultural; and, perhaps, a majority of the inhabitants are either landowners, or have that immediate expectation of becoming proprietors, which produces nearly the same effect on character with the possession of property. Adventurers who, in other countries, disturb society, are there naturally attracted towards the frontier, where they pave the way for industry, and become the pioneers of civilisation. There is no part of their people in the situation where democracy is dangerous, or even usually powerful. The dispersion of the inhabitants, and their distance from the scene of great affairs, are perhaps likely rather to make the spirit of liberty among them languid, than to rouse it to excess. In what manner the present elective system of America may act, at the remote period when the progress of society shall have conducted that country to the crowded cities and unequal fortunes of Europe, no man will pretend to foresee, except those whose presumptuous folly disables them from forming probable conjectures on such sub jects. If, from the unparalleled situation of America, the present usages should quietly prevail for a very long time, they may insensibly adapt themselves to the gradual changes in the national condition, and at length be found capable of subsisting in a state of things to which, if they had been suddenly introduced, they would have proved irreconcileably adverse. In the thinly-peopled states of the West, universal suffrage itself may be so long exercised without the possibility of danger, as to create a national habit which may be strong enough to render its exercise safe in the midst of an indigent populace. In that long tranquillity it may languish into forms, and these forms may soon follow the spirit. For a period far exceeding our foresight, it cannot affect the confederacy further than the effect which may arise from very popular elections in a few of the larger Western towns. The order of the interior country, wherever it is adopted, will be aided by the compression of its firmer and more compact confederates. It is even possible that the extremely popular system which prevails in some American elections may, in future times, be found not more than sufficient to counterbalance the growing influence of wealth in the South, and the tendencies towards Toryism which are of late perceptible in New England. The operation of different principles on elections, in various parts of the Continent, may even now be discerned. Some remarkable facts have already appeared. In the state of Pennsylvania, we have a practical proof that the Ballot is not attended with secrecy. We also know† that committees composed of the leaders of the Federal and Democratic parties, instruct their partisans how they are to vote at every election; and that in this manner the leaders of the Democratic party who now predomi * Fearon, Travels in North America, p. 138. How could this intelligent writer treat the absence of tumult, in such a city and country, as bearing any resemblance to the like circumstance in Europe? † Ibid. p. 320. nate in their Caucus * or committee at Washington, do in effect nominate to all the important offices in North America. Thus we already see combinations formed, and interests arising, on which the future government of the confederacy may depend more than on the forms of election, or the letter of its present laws. Those who condemn the principle of party, may disapprove these associations as unconstitutional. To us who consider parties as inseparable from liberty, they seem remarkable as examples of those undesigned and unforeseen correctives of inconvenient laws, which spring out of the circumstances of society. The election of so great a magistrate as the President, by great numbers of electors, scat The following account of this strange term will show its probable origin, and the long-experienced efficacy of such an expedient for controlling the Ballot:-"About the year 1738, the father of Samuel Adams and twenty others who lived in the north or shipping part of Boston, used to meet, to make a Caucus, and lay their plan for introducing Each dis certain persons into places of trust. tributed the ballots in his own circle, and they generally carried the election. In this manner Mr. S. Adams first became representative for Boston. Caucusing means electioneering." Gordon, History of the American Revolution, p. 216. note. It is conjectured, that as this practice originated in the shipping part of Boston, "Caucus" was a corruption of Caulkers' Meeting. For this information we are indebted to Pickering's American Vocabulary (Boston, 1816); a modest and sensible book, of which the principal fault is, that the author ascribes too much importance to some English writers, who are not objects of much reverence to a near observer. Mr. Picker ing's volume, however, deserves a place in English libraries. tered over a vast continent, without the power of concert, or the means of personal knowledge, would naturally produce confusion, if it were not tempered by the confidence of the members of both parties in the judgment of their respective leaders. The permanence of these leaders, slowly raised by a sort of insensible election to the conduct of parties, tends to counteract the evil of that system of periodical removal, which is peculiarly inconvenient in its application to important executive offices. The internal discipline of parties may be found to be a principle of subordination of great value in republican institutions. Certain it is, that the affairs of the United States have hitherto been generally administered, in times of great difficulty and under a succession of Presidents, with a forbearance, circumspection, constancy, and vigour, not surpassed by those commonwealths who have been most justly renowned for the wisdom of their councils. perceive impending over America, arises The only disgrace or danger which we from the execrable institution of slavery, the unjust disfranchisement of free Blacks, -the trading in slaves carried on from state to state,—and the dissolute and violent character of those adventurers, whose impatience for guilty wealth spreads the horrors of slavery over the new acquisitions in the South. Let the lawgivers of that Imperial Republic deeply consider how powerfully these disgraceful circumstances tend to weaken the love of liberty, the only bond which can hold together such vast territories, and therefore the only source and guard of the tranquillity and greatness of America. A SPEECH IN DEFENCE OF JEAN PELTIER,* ACCUSED OF A LIBEL ON THE FIRST CONSUL OF FRANCE. DELIVERED IN THE COURT OF KINGS BENCH ON THE 21ST OF FEBRUARY, 1803. GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY, The time is now come for me to address you on behalf of the unfortunate Gentleman who is the defendant on this record. I must begin with observing, that though I know myself too well to ascribe to any thing but to the kindness and good-nature of my learned friend the Attorney-General † the unmerited praises which he has been pleased to bestow on me, yet I will venture to say, he has done me no more than justice in supposing that in this place, and on this occa The First Consul had for some time previously shown considerable irritability under the fire of the English journalists, when the Peace of Amiens, by permitting a rapprochement with the English Ministry, afforded an opening through which his paw could reach the source of annoyance. M. Jean Peltier, on whom it lighted, was an emigrant, who had been conducting for some years various periodical works in the Royalist interest. From one of these "L'Ambigu ” — three articles, which are alluded to separately in the course of the speech, were selected by the law officers of the Crown for prosecution, as instigating the assassination of the First Consul. Nor, perhaps, could such a conclusion have been successfully struggled with by any advocate. The proceeding was one that was accompanied with much excitement in public opinion, as was evidenced by the concourse of persons surrounding the court on the day of trial. It was supposed by some that a verdict of acquittal would have had an unfavourable effect upon the already feverish state of the intercourse between the two Governments. In fact, though found "guilty," the Defendant escaped any sentence through the recurrence of hostilities.- ED. The Right Honourable Spencer Perceval.-ED. sion, where I exercise the functions of an inferior minister of justice, - an inferior minister indeed, but a minister of justice still, I am incapable of lending myself to the passions of any client, and that I will not make the proceedings of this Court subservient to any political purpose. Whatever is respected by the laws and government of my country shall, in this place, be respected by me. In considering matters that deeply interest the quiet, the safety, and the liberties of all mankind, it is impossible for me not to feel warmly and strongly; but I shall make an effort to control my feelings, however painful that effort may be; and where I cannot speak out but at the risk of offending either sincerity or prudence, I shall labour to contain myself and be silent. I cannot but feel, Gentlemen, how much I stand in need of your favourable attention and indulgence. The charge which I have to defend is surrounded with the most invidious topics of discussion. But they are not of my seeking. The case, and the topics which are inseparable from it, are brought here by the prosecutor. Here I find them, and here it is my duty to deal with them, as the interests of Mr. Peltier seem to me to require. He, by his choice and confidence, has cast on me a very arduous duty, which I could not decline, and which I can still less betray. He has a right to expect from me a faithful, a zealous, and a fearless defence; and this his just expectation, according to the measure of my humble abilities, shall be fulfilled. I have said, a fearless |