The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• Introduction to the Third Edition.
• On Civil Liberty and Self-government.
• Chapter I.: Introductory.
• Chapter II.: Definitions of Liberty.
• Chapter III.: The Meaning of Civil Liberty.
• Chapter IV.: Ancient and Modern Liberty.—Ancient, Medieval, and Modern States.
• Chapter V.: Anglican Liberty.
• Chapter VI.: National Independence—Personal Liberty.
• Chapter VII.: Bail.—Penal Trial.
• Chapter VIII.: High Treason.
• Chapter IX.: Communion.—Locomotion, Emigration.
• Chapter X.: Liberty of Conscience.—Property:—Supremacy of the Law.
• Chapter XI.: Quartering Soldiers.—The Army.
• Chapter XII.: Petition.—Association.
• Chapter XIII.: Publicity.
• Chapter XIV.: Supremacy of the Law.—Taxation.—Division of Power.
• Chapter XV.: Responsible Ministers.—Courts Declaring Laws Unconstitutional.—Representative Government.
• Chapter XVI.: Representative Government, Continued.—Basis of Property.—Direct and Indirect Elections.
• Chapter XVII.: Parliamentary Law and Usage.—The Speaker.—Two Houses.—The Veto.
• Chapter XVIII.: Independence of the Judiciary.—The Law Jus, Common Law.
• Chapter XIX.: Independence of Jus, Self-development of Law, Continued.—Accusatorial and Inquisitorial Trials.—Independence of the Judge.
• Chapter XX.: Independence of Jus, Continued.—Trial By Jury.—The Advocate.
• Chapter XXI.: Self—Government.
• Chapter XXII.: American Liberty.
• Chapter XXIII.: In What Civil Liberty Consists, Proved By Contraries.
• Chapter XXIV.: Gallican Liberty.—Spreading of Liberty.
• Chapter XXV.: The Institution.—Its Definition.—Its Power For Good and Evil.
• Chapter XXVI.: The Institution, Continued.—Institutional Liberty.—Institutional Local Self-government.
• Chapter XXVII.: Effects and Uses of Institutional Self-government.
• Chapter XXVIII.: Dangers and Inconveniences of Institutional Self-government.
• Chapter XXIX.: Advantages of Institutional Government, Farther Considered.
• Chapter XXX.: Institutional Government the Only Government Which Prevents the Growth of Too Much Power.—Liberty, Wealth, and Longevity of States.
• Chapter XXXI.: Insecurity Op Uninstitutional Governments.—Unorganized Inarticulated Popular Power.
• Chapter XXXII.: Imperatorial Sovereignty.
• Chapter XXXIII.: Imperatorial Sovereignty, Continued.—Its Origin and Character Examined.
• Chapter XXXIV.: Centralization.—Influence Of Capital Cities.
• Chapter XXXV.: Vox Populi Vox Dei.
• Appendix.
• Appendix I.: A Paper On Elections, Election Statistics, and General Votes of Yes Or No.
• Appendix II.: A Paper On the Abuse of the Pardoning Power.
• Appendix III.: A Paper On Subjects Connected With the Inquisitorial Trial and the Laws of Evidence.
• Appendix IV.: Magna Charta of King John, Fifteenth Day of June, In the Seventeenth Year of the King's Reign, A.d. 1215.
• Appendix V.: The Petition of Right. 1
• Appendix VI.: An Act For the Better Securing the Liberty of the Subject, and For Prevention of Imprisonments Beyond the Seas, Commonly Called “the Habeas Corpus Act.” 1
• Appendix VII.: Bill of Rights, Passed 1 William and Mary, Sess. 2, Ch. 2, 1689.
• Appendix VIII.: A Declaration By the Representatives of the United States of America In Congress Assembled.
• Appendix IX.: Articles of Confederation and Perpetual Union Between the States.
• Appendix X.: Constitution of the United States of America.
• Appendix XI.: The French Constitution, Adopted and Proclaimed On the Twenty-fourth of June 1793. the First Republican Constitution
• Declarations of the Rights of Man and of Citizens.
• Constitution of the Twenty-fourth of June, 1793.
• Appendix XII.: French Charter of Louis XVIII. And That Adopted In the Year 1830.
• Appendix XIII.: Constitution of the French Republic. Adopted November, 1848.
• Appendix XIV.: The Present Constitution of France.
• Appendix XV.: Report of the French Senatorial Committee On the Petitions to Change the Republic Into an Empire, In November, 1852, 1 and the Senatus-consultum Adopted In Conformity With It.
• Appendix XVI.: Letter of the French Minister of the Interior, Mr. De Morny, Addressed to the Prefects of the Deparments In the Year 1852.

chapter xxxiv.

centralization.—influence of capital cities.

We have seen in how great a degree French centralism has produced an incapacity for self-rule, according to one of the most distinguished statesmen of France herself. This centralism, in conjunction with imperatorial sovereignty, has produced some peculiar effects upon a nation so intelligent, ardent, and wedded to system as the French are. Before I conclude this treatise, therefore, I beg leave to offer a few remarks, which naturally suggest themselves, in connection with centralism and imperatorial sovereignty; both so prominent at this moment in France.

Centralism has given to Paris an importance which no capital possesses in any other country. The French themselves often say Paris is France; foreigners always say so; and to them as well as to those French people who desire to enjoy, at one round, as much as possible of all that French civilization produces, this is, doubtless, very agreeable and instructive. Paris is brilliant, as centralism frequently is; Paris naturally flatters the vanity of the French; Paris stands with many people for France, because they see nothing of France but Paris. Centralization appears most imposing in Paris—in the buildings, in demonstrations, in rapidity of execution, and in an æsthetical point of view. Upon a close examination of history, however, we shall find that it has been not only a natural effect of centralism, but an object of all absolute rulers over intelligent races, to beautify the capital and raise its activity to the highest point The effect is remarkable. The government of King Jerome, of Westphalia—now again prince of France—was one of the most ruinous that has ever existed, and yet long after the downfall of that ephemeral kingdom, every disapproval of it was answered by a reference to the embellishment of Cassel, the capital.1

Capital cities and residences of kings, and even of petty princes, have in this respect the same effect which single large fortunes or single busy places have on the minds of the superficial, in point of political economy. They are palpable, and strike the mind, yet they prove nothing of themselves. There is not a war, however ruinous, that does not produce gigantic gains for some bankers, contractors, and able speculators. They are often pointed out to prove that a certain war has not been fatal to general prosperity. There have never existed greater fortunes than those of some princely Roman senators, with their latifundia, in the very worst periods of the Roman empire, amidst universal ruin, and when the country was fast declining to that state in which the tillers of the soil abandoned their farms, because unable to pay the taxes, and in which Italy, with the utmost exertion of the government, was not able to raise an army against invading hordes.

Whenever we shall have executed our railway to the Pacific, nothing of it will be seen at one moment and by the physical eye, that differs from the rails of any other road, and the vulgar will be struck far more by a palace at Versailles, or a column of Trajan; unless, indeed, a pointing hand were hewn in granite, at San Francisco, with the words, To the Atlantic, and another at some Atlantic city, with the words, To the Pacific; and even then the grandeur of the road would not be perceived by the physical eye.1

We live in an age which has justly been called the age of large cities.2 Populous cities are indispensable to civilization, and even to liberty, though I own that one of the problems we have yet to solve is, how to unite in large cities the highest degree of individual liberty and order.

But absorbing cities, cities on which monarchs are allowed to lavish millions of the national wealth, always belong to a low state of general national life, often to effete empires. The vast cities of Asia, Byzantium, imperial Rome, and many other cities prove it. On the other hand, it is an unfortunate state of things in which one city rules supreme, either by an overwhelming population, as Naples, or by concentration, as Paris. Constant changes of governments seem almost inevitable, whether they are produced by the people, as in the case of Paris, or by foreigners, as was formerly the case in Naples.

A comparison between Paris and London, in this respect, is instructive. London, far more populous, has far less influence than Paris; and London, incomparably richer, is far less brilliant than Paris. Monarchical absolutism and centralism strike the eye and strive to do so; liberty is brilliant indeed, but it is brilliant in history, and must be studied in her institutions.3

Great as the influence of Paris has been ever since the reign of the Valois, it has steadily increased, and those who strove for liberty were by no means behind the others in their worship of the capital. This singular idolatry was actually acknowledged by several resolutions of the representatives of the people, during the late republic.

The intense influence of Paris, together with the wide-spread system of government, every single thread of which centres in Paris, is such that, in 1848, the republic was literally telegraphed to the departments, and adopted without any resistance from any quarter, civil or military, which cannot be explained by the often-avowed horror of the French at shedding French blood, since blood was readily shed to elevate Louis Napoleon. The same causes made it possible for the republic, so readily and unanimously adopted, to be with equal readiness changed by eight millions of votes into a monarchy.

It has already been admitted that centralism, by the very fact that it concentrates great power, can produce many striking results which it is not in the power of governments on a different principle to exhibit. These effects please and often popularize a government; but there is another fact to be taken into consideration. Symmetry is one of the elements of humanity; systematizing is one of man's constant actions. It captivates and becomes dangerous, if other elements and activities equally important are neglected, or if it is carried into spheres in which it ought not to prevail. The regularity and consistent symmetry, together with the principle of unity, which pervade the whole French government, charm many a beholder, and afford pleasure not unlike that which many persons derive from looking at a plan of a mathematically regular city, or upon gardens architectonically trimmed. But freedom is life, and wherever we find life it is marked, indeed, by agreement of principles and harmony of development, but also by variety of form and phenomenon, and by a subordinate exactness of symmetry. The centralist, it might be said, mistakes lineal and angular exactness, formal symmetry, and mathematical proportions, for harmonious evolution and profuse vitality. He prefers an angular garden of the times of Louis XIV. to an umbrageous grove.

Centralism, and the desire to bring everything under the influence of government, or to effect as far as possible everything by government, has fearfully increased from the moment that the imperatorial absolutism was declared:1 while, at the same time, a degree of man-worship has developed itself, which makes people at a distance almost stand aghast The same hyperbolical, and, in many cases, blasphemous flattery, which reminded the observer, in the times of Napoleon I., of imperial Rome, has been repeated since. No one who has attentively followed the events of our times stands in need of instances; they were offered by hundreds,2 and of a character that would make the most inveterate former tory-worship of the crowned person appear as an innocent blundering; but we cannot pass over the fact that an infatuated yet large part of a nation have for the first time in history, so far as we know, called ideas after a man of action. “Napoleonic ideas” has become a favorite expression. Not only newspapers use this term—a late one condemned free-trade because “free-trade is no Napoleonic idea”—but men whom we have been accustomed to look upon with respect1 have fallen into this infatuation. All of us have heard of Christian ethics, Christian ideas and sentiments, but we have never heard of Carlovingian, Frederician, Julian, Alexandrian, Gregorian or Lutheran ideas. It is a submission to a name, an individual—and an individual, too, be it observed, who distinguished himself as a man of action, which seems to indicate a singular want of self-reliance and self-respect.

Centralized government scan effect certain brilliant acts, but they are on this account seriously liable to fall into a method of carrying on public affairs which, in the language of stage managers, is significantly called starring, and which has the serious inconvenience of leading popular attention from solid actions to that which dazzles, from wholesome reality to mere brilliant ideas.

The elevation of Napoleon III. may be referred in a measure to this error. Huzzaing crowds are never substantial indications of any opinion, whether the crowds are voluntary or subpoenaed. “Where are my enemies?” said Charles II. when he re-entered London and passed through the crowd of his subjects. He had enough. Prince de Ligne tells us that, when Catharine travelled through Crimea, distant populations were carried to the roadside of the imperial traveller, to wait on her, in costumes delivered to them by the government, and to personate the inhabitants of show villages which had been erected in the background. These sham villages are typical.

Still, we can believe that many persons rushed to see the present emperor when he travelled through France, before he made himself emperor, because they really believed that which had been so often repeated—that Louis Napoleon “had saved society and civilization.” Now, this is exactly an idea which belongs to the order that has been indicated.

It is in the first place founded upon the belief that if civilization perishes in France it is necessarily lost for the entire world. It would certainly produce a very serious shock; but the French idea of one leading nation is an anachronism. It belongs to ancient times; the French easily fall into this error, because Paris really leads France. Civilization, however, would not be wholly lost even for France, should Paris be destroyed; or, if it were so, what must we think of the whole country?

Secondly, those who assert that Napoleon III. saved society mean, it must be supposed, that had he not taken the reins of absolute power the socialists would have destroyed property, industry, and individuality.

The fear which the socialists have inspired must have been very great, and doubtless the power in every individual of doing mischief is immense, compared to that of doing good. Even an insect can cause a leak to a man-of-war; but to say that a single man—such a man, and by such means—has been the savior of society, is at once so monstrous an exaggeration, and such an avowal of inability to act, and want of self-reliance, that this hyperbole, if it be not altogether an error, would have led to no such results with any nation less accustomed to centralism, absolutism, and an absorbing government. These were necessary to make a nation so rapidly, and apparently with so much good-humor, bend to all the exorbitant and insulting demands of absolutism, to which, unfortunately, at this moment the French nation seems to bow with a peculiar grace.

[1.]There are psychological processes which indicate suspicious intentions—the adoption of a new and scientifically sounding term for an old and common offence, as Repudiation for declining to pay what is due; and of mystifying, high-sounding abstractions in statesmanship. The latter is carried to a degree, in the following address of Napoleon, which is rare even in France. Louis XIV., according to the present emperor of the French, the great representative of French unity and glory, when he had ruined France by the building of Versailles, warned, on his death-bed, his successor to beware of wars and of building. There are so many points of French politics tersely put in the speech of Napoleon III., when in September of 1857 he opened the Louvre, that its record may be considered a historical document. We give it therefore entire.

The ceremony of opening the Louvre was simple but imposing. The ministers, marshals and generals, the senators and great functionaries, assembled in the hall of the Louvre. The emperor and empress arrived at two o'clock with a vast retinue. The business began by the presentation of an address to the emperor from M. Fould, briefly describing the origin and completion of a work which, begun in 1852 and finished in 1857, unites the Louvre and the Tuileries. The emperor next distributed the legion of honor to the professional men who have distinguished themselves during the election of the building; making some commanders, some simple knights. Having distributed all the honors, the emperor delivered the following address:

“Gentlemen—I congratulate myself, with you, on the completion of the Louvre, I congratulate myself especially upon the causes which have rendered it possible. In fact, it is order, restored stability, and the ever-increasing prosperity of the country, which have enabled me to complete this national work. I call it so because the governments which have succeeded each other have made it a point to do something towards the completion of the royal dwelling commenced by Francis I. and embellished by Henry II.

“Whence this perseverance, and even this popularity, in the building of a palace? It is because the character of a people is reflected in its institutions as in its customs, in the events that excite its enthusiasm as well as in the monuments which become the object of its chief interest. Now France, monarchical for so many centuries, which always beheld in the central power the representative of her grandeur and of her nationality, wished that the dwelling of the sovereign should be worthy of the country; and the best means of responding to that sentiment was to adorn that dwelling with the different masterpieces of human intelligence.

“In the middle ages, the king dwelt in a fortress, bristling with defensive works; but soon the progress of civilization superseded battlements, and the produce of letters, of the arts and sciences, took the place of weapons of war. Thus the history of monuments has also its philosophy as well as the history of events.

“In like manner as it is remarkable that at the time of the first revolution, the committee of public welfare should have continued, without being aware of it, the work of Louis XI., of Richelieu, of Louis XIV., giving the last blow to the feudal system, and carrying out the system of unity and centralization, the constant aim of monarchy—in like manner is there not a great lesson to learn in beholding the idea of Henry IV., of Louis XIII., of Louis XIV., of Louis XV., of Louis XVI., of Napoleon, as regards the Louvre, adopted by the ephemeral power of 1848? One of the first acts, in fact, of the provisional government, was to decree the completion of the palace of our kings. So true is it that a nation draws from its antecedents, as an individual derives from his education, ideas which the passions of a moment do not succeed in destroying. When a moral impulse is the consequence of the social condition of a country, it is handed down through centuries, and through different forms of government, until the object in view is attained.

“Thus the completion of the Louvre, towards which I thank you for your cooperation, given with so much zeal and skill, is not the caprice of a moment, but is the realization of a plan conceived for the glory and kept alive by the instinct of the country for more than three hundred years.”

In the evening some hundreds of persons engaged in the work—workingmen, artists, men of letters, journalists—were entertained at dinner by the minister of state in a gallery of the Louvre. Of course the speaking was ultra-loyal.

[1.]No one will charge the author, he trusts, with political iconoclasm, that has read his chapter on monuments in his Political Ethics.

[2.]The Age of Great Cities, or Modern Society viewed in its Relation to Intelligence, Morals and Religion, by Robert Vaughn, D.D., London, 1843.

[3.]This manifests itself in all spheres. Paris leads in fashion, art, science, language, etc. England has her Oxford and Cambridge.

The title of Walker's Critical Pronouncing Dictionary has these words: “likewise Rules to be observed by the Natives of Scotland, Ireland and London, for avoiding their respective Peculiarities,” as indicating part of the contents. This is strikingly English. The pronunciation and “peculiarities” of the Parisians, even as they change from time to time, are the very standard of French pronunciation.

Similar remarks may be made regarding the courts. The court of Versailles dictated in every sphere at the time when Horace Walpole, the whig, wrote that the English court was not fashionable, and was considered little better than a number of Germans kept there for some useful practical end.

[1.]According to the latest news, even the dead are under the control of government, not in the sense of Sydney Smith, by paying taxes, but no one can any longer be buried in Paris except by a chartered company, standing under the close inspection of the police department.

[2.]Churchmen and laymen, as is well known, vie with each other on such occasions. The blasphemous flattery offered by some dignitaries of the church to Napoleon I. was revolting. We have seen the same when there seemed to be a question who could bid highest in burning incense to the present new Cæsar. The Lord's Prayer was travestied. The following “proclamation” is taken from the “Concorde de Seine et Oise,” of October, 1852, for the very reason that it is not one of the worst:

“Town of Sèvres. Proclamation of the Empire.“Inhabitants—Paris, the heart of France, acclaimed on the 10th of May for its emperor him whose divine mission is every day revealed in such a striking and dazzling manner. At this moment it is the whole of France electrified which salutes her savior, the elect of God, by this new title, which clothes him with sovereign power: ‘God wills it,’ is repeated with one voice—‘vox populi vox Dei.’ It is the marriage of France with the envoy of God, which is contracted in the face of the universe, under the auspices of all the constituted bodies, and of all the people. That union is sanctified by all the ministers of religion, and by all the princes of the church. These addresses, these petitions, and these speeches, which are at this moment exchanging between the chief of the state and France, are the documents connected with that holy union; every one wishes to sign them, as at the church he would sign the marriage-deed at which he is present. Inhabitants of Sèvres, as the interpreter of your sentiments, I have prepared the deed which makes you take part in this great national movement. Two books are opened at the Mairie to receive your signatures: one of them will be offered in your presence to him whom I from this day designate under the title of emperor. Let us hope that he will deign to accede to the supplications which I shall address to him in your name, to return to the palace of St. Cloud through our territory, by the gate of honor which we possess. The other book, which I shall present for the signature of the prince, will remain in your archives as a happy souvenir of this memorable epoch. Let all the population, without distinction, come, therefore, and sign this document; it sets forth that which is in your heart and in your will.”

This document is accompanied by a formal proclamation, appropriately signed—”Ménager, mayor.”

Plain dealing, however, obliges us to remember, along with such extravagances of foreigners, the repulsive flattery in which some individuals indulged when Kossuth was among us. Nor must we wholly forget the language of certain daily journals at the time of General Jackson's administration. But these were erratic acts of individuals, and, however disgusting, were not officially received by government.

[1.]Mr. Chevalier.