their neighbors. The fall of a party at such a time, like a sudden stroke of adversity, quells the pride of the politician, and inculcates prudence, caution, and forbearance, in private behavior. The reason why the workings of party are so much more ramified and extensive in a republic, than in any other form of government, is easily explained. In monarchy and aristocracy, the bulk of the people are spectators, not actors; and the operation of parties is necessarily confined within a narrow circle. But free institutions presuppose that the mass of the people are active, not passive citizens, and parties not only regulate the conduct of the handful of men, who preside over public affairs; they regulate also the conduct of the millions, who, although out of the government, yet constitute the springs which set the government in motion. If this were not the case, if there were no regulative principle to shake society, as well as to act upon the government, there would be no way of maintaining free institutions. Men who hold office may be punished for misconduct; but how is it possible by legal enactments to punish whole parties? When, however, a party is tumbled from power, the individuals composing it, lose caste-lose some portion of that consideration, which before attached to them. If this produces more boldness and recklessness in some, it promotes more reflection and prudence in others. CHAPTER IX. A REPUBLIC IS ESSENTIALLY A GOVERNMENT OF RESTRAINT. No one who is an attentive observer of human nature, can fail to be struck with the amazing influence which the opinion of a multitude of men exercises over the mind. We can stand up and confront a single individual even though we are far from being right, but we recoil with a sort of dread from any opposition to the opinion of a great number. Many causes concur to produce this effect : First. If the individual feels awed by the presence, it is because he is conscious that they are rendered strong, by being in a body. This must necessarily be the case. Men are physically stronger, when they act together, and they are morally stronger when they sympathize together. The phenomenon then is easily explained. The principle even shows why the individual is awed, where he is in the right, and the multitude clearly in the wrong. That multitude, so far as physical injury is concerned, is as strong as before; so far as moral injury is concerned, it is not near so strong; but it is much stronger than the individual. Their sympathy with one another is still a weapon of offence, against those who do not share in that sympathy. The individual then feels his weakness, because the sentiment of sympathy being a principle of his own nature, he is left without support, when he is entitled to the strongest. The first feel their strength as before, simply because sympathy is a principle of moral, as an actual union is of physical strength. The principle manifests itself in another shape. When an individual is conceived to represent a multitude, no matter whether it is an enlightened or an unenlightened multitude, his presence to a certain extent, conveys an impression of their presence, and produces a similar effect. The institution of patron, and client which prevailed in Rome, for so longa time, is an illustration of the same principle. Individuals surrounded themselves with retainers, not merely to add to their physical power, but to increase their moral influence. The same custom was introduced into the Republics of Florence, and Genoa, in the middle ages, and gave an artificial weight and importance to those who adopted it. Even in England, traces of the same custom are closely discernible as late as the beginning of the sixteenth century. The practice of having a numerous body of retainers, and giving them badges, or liveries, was not put an end to, until 1509, in the reign of Henry the seventh. Even where no such custom exists, we can still perceive indications of a disposition moving in the same direction. Everywhere we see men allying themselves with other men, not merely openly as with parties, but tacitly with other individuals, in order to inspire themselves with confidence, and to give countenance to their behavior. In a democratic community, where individuals fear each other so much, the custom is difficult to be established, but the weapon of ridicule is wielded by cliques and coteries, as the most convenient mode of attack. Second. The notion of right and wrong is implanted in all men That we should feel distress and anxiety when we do wrong, requires no explanation; for this is running counter, if not to our propensities and passions, yet, at any rate, to the governing principle of our conduct. To say that we feel an immoral action to be wrong, whatever may be the allurements with which it is accompanied, is the same as to say that the sense of right is felt to be the authoritative principle, and that any departure from it fills us with uneasiness and apprehension. But, in the second place, the training and formation of the human character are conducted in youth, when the mind is feeble and without much observation and experience. We, therefore, emerge into a world where a system of opinions and conduct is already established, and it does not seem unnatural but rather a necessary consequence of the process by which human conduct is shaped, that we should defer greatly to the standard of opinion which is erected, and our deportment (not so far as regards the fundamentals of morality, but) as regards those actions to which are affixed the appellations fit and unfit, proper and improper, reasonable and unreasonable, should be compressed into a conformity with it, and that any revolt against it should be followed with a sense of dread and uneasiness. And this more especially as so large a proportion of this class of actions affect other men, and carry along with them, not merely the force of opinion, but that of authority. If it should be said, that the presence of such a force, constantly acting upon the faculties of men, and holding them in check, must frequently have a disturbing influence upon their actions, this will be admitted; but there is, on the whole, much greater security for the preservation of a tolerably right standard, than if every one felt himself independent of the opinions of all. This singleness in the character of the rule gives unity to those numberless actions which are isolated, and prevents their being drawn too exclusively in the direction of self-interest. Each individual is apt to view himself from a point different from that where he is viewed by others. His horizon is more limited than theirs, not because he has fewer or feebler faculties, or because he has less correct notions of right, but because, in the case of the individual, these notions are liable to be obscured by feelings and interests which, although they may be common to all, are obliged to be kept under and restrained, when they come to think and act in a body. There is a high probability, therefore, that the opinion of an individual as to his own conduct is biassed, and an equal probability that the sentiment of the body is impartial. The mere apprehension that this may be the case hangs like a perpetual weight upon each one, and renders him, to say the least, more thoughtful and circumspect than he would otherwise be. He is thus better enabled, in those instances where he is in the right, and they in the wrong, to appeal from their judgment to the judgment of mankind. That class of actions which are generally denominated selfish, carry for the most part their own antidote along with them. That they are selfish constitutes the great protection of the community against their inroads. For it will be easily seen that if there were the same sympathy with others in the gratification by them of their lower propensities, as there is in their noble and disinterested actions, the former would gain the mastery, and society be converted into a bedlam. However men may act therefore in particular instances, both the secret and the declared opinion of every one is obliged to be on the side of right. And this opinion is even fortified by self-interest, when self interest comes to be viewed from the proper point. For although the private interest of the individual may sometimes seem to coincide with the commission of wrong, when it is abstracted from all regard to his relations with others; yet it can never do so when these relations are taken into the account. Now, our relations with others, if they do not create, at least modify, that whole circle of interests which we denominate private. I do not now speak of those actions which spring from the lower propensities, but of those which are employed by every one in the improvement of his outward condition. The pursuit of an absolutely separate interest by some would consequently break in upon the private interests of all others; while, at the same time it is equally clear that a regard for the rights of all others is the only guarantee that our own will be preserved. Here, then, also, what is termed the general opinion is obliged to take a direction favorable to the common weal, and unfavorable to the selfish views of individuals. In this way the opinion of all is brought to bear upon each; and hence it is that in a democratic republic, where the government appears to be wanting in authority, and individuals to possess unbounded freedom, what is termed public opinion is armed with so much power, inspires so general a respect for the laws, and so much terror on the infraction of them. In what is termed strong government society is divided into fixed classes, one of which sits in judgment upon all the others. But it is far less probable, that the opinion of a class should represent the opinion of mankind, than that the combined sentiment of a whole community should do so. The laws having consecrated that class as a separate interest, have to that extent confounded the opinion of right with that of interest. It would appear, then, that liberty is essentially a principle of restraint. It is true, if others are free while I am not, the principle operates unequally-the restraint is on one side. But if I am admitted to the enjoyment of the same privilege, my actions will impose a check upon the conduct of others, and their actions will impose a corresponding check upon me: and the influence of the principle will be more or less felt throughout the whole of society. The exercise of unrestricted freedom by all, when all are free, is a self contradiction. It supposes a power in each to invade the rights of all others, in which case liberty would fall to the ground and no one be free. The possession of the privilege then by all, limits its exercise in practice, and men are restrained and controlled, precisely because they are free. My liberty of action is an habitual restraint upon the conduct of others, when they attempt to invade my rights, and their liberty is in similar circumstances a restraint upon |