saw a new experiment tried,—a government
systematically built up from the foundation of the
many,—a government drawing its being from,
and dependent for its continued existence on, the
will and the intelligence of the governed. The
foundation had first been laid deep and strong, and
on it a goodly superstructure of government was erected.
Yet, even to this day, the very subjects of that government
itself do not realize that they, and not the government,
are the sources of national prosperity. In times
of national emergency like the present,—amid
clamors of secession and of coercion,—angry
threats and angrier replies,—wars and rumors
of wars,—what is more common than to hear
sensible men—men whom the people look to
as leaders—picturing forth a dire relapse
into barbarism and anarchy as the necessary consequence
of the threatened convulsions? They forget, if
they ever realized, that the people made this government,
and not the government the people. Destroy the
intelligence of the people, and the government could
not exist for a day;—destroy this government,
and the people would create another, and yet another,
of no less perfect symmetry. While the foundations
are firm, there need be no fears of the superstructure,
which may be renewed again and again; but touch the
foundations, and the superstructure must crumble at
once. Those who still insist on believing that
this government made the people are fond of triumphantly
pointing to the condition of the States of Mexico,
as telling the history of our own future, let our present
government be once interrupted in its functions.
Are Mexicans Yankees? Are Spaniards Anglo-Saxons?
Are Catholicism and religious freedom, the Inquisition
and common schools, despotism and democracy, synonymous
terms? Could a successful republic, on our model,
be at once instituted in Africa on the assassination
of the King of Timbuctoo? Have two centuries
of education nothing to do with our success, or an
eternity of ignorance with Mexican failure? Was
our government a lucky guess, and theirs an unfortunate
speculation? The one lesson that America is destined
to teach the world, or to miss her destiny in failing
to teach, has with us passed into a truism, and is
yet continually lost sight of; it is the magnificent
result of three thousand years of experiment:
the simple truth, that no government is so firm, so
truly conservative, and so wholly indestructible,
as a government founded and dependent for support
upon the affections and good-will of a moral, intelligent,
and educated community. In our politics, we hear
much of State-rights and centralization,—of
distribution of power,—of checks and balances,—of
constitutions and their construction,—of
patronage and its distribution,—of banks,
of tariffs, and of trade,—all of them subjects
of moment in their sphere; but their sphere is limited.
Whether they be decided one way or the other is of
comparatively little consequence: for, however
they are decided, if the people are educated and informed,