Chapter Summary
The national majority does not pretend to conduct all
business—Is obliged to employ the town and county magistrates to execute its
supreme decisions.
I have already pointed out the distinction which is to be
made between a centralized government and a centralized administration. The
former exists in America, but the latter is nearly unknown there. If the
directing power of the American communities had both these instruments of
government at its disposal, and united the habit of executing its own commands
to the right of commanding; if, after having established the general principles
of government, it descended to the details of public business; and if, having
regulated the great interests of the country, it could penetrate into the
privacy of individual interests, freedom would soon be banished from the New
World.
But in the United States the majority, which so
frequently displays the tastes and the propensities of a despot, is still
destitute of the more perfect instruments of tyranny. In the American republics
the activity of the central Government has never as yet been extended beyond a
limited number of objects sufficiently prominent to call forth its attention.
The secondary affairs of society have never been regulated by its authority,
and nothing has hitherto betrayed its desire of interfering in them. The
majority is become more and more absolute, but it has not increased the
prerogatives of the central government; those great prerogatives have been
confined to a certain sphere; and although the despotism of the majority may be
galling upon one point, it cannot be said to extend to all. However the
predominant party in the nation may be carried away by its passions, however
ardent it may be in the pursuit of its projects, it cannot oblige all the
citizens to comply with its desires in the same manner and at the same time
throughout the country. When the central Government which represents that majority
has issued a decree, it must entrust the execution of its will to agents, over
whom it frequently has no control, and whom it cannot perpetually direct. The
townships, municipal bodies, and counties may therefore be looked upon as
concealed break-waters, which check or part the tide of popular excitement. If
an oppressive law were passed, the liberties of the people would still be
protected by the means by which that law would be put in execution: the
majority cannot descend to the details and (as I will venture to style them)
the puerilities of administrative tyranny. Nor does the people entertain that
full consciousness of its authority which would prompt it to interfere in these
matters; it knows the extent of its natural powers, but it is unacquainted with
the increased resources which the art of government might furnish.
This point deserves attention, for if a democratic
republic similar to that of the United States were ever founded in a country
where the power of a single individual had previously subsisted, and the
effects of a centralized administration had sunk deep into the habits and the
laws of the people, I do not hesitate to assert, that in that country a more
insufferable despotism would prevail than any which now exists in the
monarchical States of Europe, or indeed than any which could be found on this
side of the confines of Asia.
The Profession Of The Law In The United States Serves To
Counterpoise The Democracy
Utility of discriminating the natural propensities of the
members of the legal profession—These men called upon to act a prominent part
in future society—In what manner the peculiar pursuits of lawyers give an
aristocratic turn to their ideas—Accidental causes which may check this
tendency—Ease with which the aristocracy coalesces with legal men—Use of
lawyers to a despot—The profession of the law constitutes the only aristocratic
element with which the natural elements of democracy will combine—Peculiar
causes which tend to give an aristocratic turn of mind to the English and American
lawyers—The aristocracy of America is on the bench and at the bar—Influence of
lawyers upon American society—Their peculiar magisterial habits affect the
legislature, the administration, and even the people.
In visiting the Americans and in studying their laws we
perceive that the authority they have entrusted to members of the legal
profession, and the influence which these individuals exercise in the
Government, is the most powerful existing security against the excesses of
democracy. This effect seems to me to result from a general cause which it is
useful to investigate, since it may produce analogous consequences elsewhere.
The members of the legal profession have taken an
important part in all the vicissitudes of political society in Europe during
the last five hundred years. At one time they have been the instruments of
those who were invested with political authority, and at another they have
succeeded in converting political authorities into their instrument. In the
Middle Ages they afforded a powerful support to the Crown, and since that
period they have exerted themselves to the utmost to limit the royal
prerogative. In England they have contracted a close alliance with the
aristocracy; in France they have proved to be the most dangerous enemies of
that class. It is my object to inquire whether, under all these circumstances,
the members of the legal profession have been swayed by sudden and momentary
impulses; or whether they have been impelled by principles which are inherent
in their pursuits, and which will always recur in history. I am incited to this
investigation by reflecting that this particular class of men will most likely
play a prominent part in that order of things to which the events of our time
are giving birth.
Men who have more especially devoted themselves to legal
pursuits derive from those occupations certain habits of order, a taste for
formalities, and a kind of instinctive regard for the regular connection of
ideas, which naturally render them very hostile to the revolutionary spirit and
the unreflecting passions of the multitude.
The special information which lawyers derive from their
studies ensures them a separate station in society, and they constitute a sort
of privileged body in the scale of intelligence. This notion of their
superiority perpetually recurs to them in the practice of their profession:
they are the masters of a science which is necessary, but which is not very
generally known; they serve as arbiters between the citizens; and the habit of
directing the blind passions of parties in litigation to their purpose inspires
them with a certain contempt for the judgment of the multitude. To this it may
be added that they naturally constitute a body, not by any previous
understanding, or by an agreement which directs them to a common end; but the
analogy of their studies and the uniformity of their proceedings connect their
minds together, as much as a common interest could combine their endeavors.
A portion of the tastes and of the habits of the
aristocracy may consequently be discovered in the characters of men in the
profession of the law. They participate in the same instinctive love of order
and of formalities; and they entertain the same repugnance to the actions of
the multitude, and the same secret contempt of the government of the people. I
do not mean to say that the natural propensities of lawyers are sufficiently
strong to sway them irresistibly; for they, like most other men, are governed
by their private interests and the advantages of the moment.
In a state of society in which the members of the legal
profession are prevented from holding that rank in the political world which
they enjoy in private life, we may rest assured that they will be the foremost
agents of revolution. But it must then be inquired whether the cause which
induces them to innovate and to destroy is accidental, or whether it belongs to
some lasting purpose which they entertain. It is true that lawyers mainly
contributed to the overthrow of the French monarchy in 1789; but it remains to
be seen whether they acted thus because they had studied the laws, or because
they were prohibited from co-operating in the work of legislation.
Five hundred years ago the English nobles headed the
people, and spoke in its name; at the present time the aristocracy supports the
throne, and defends the royal prerogative. But aristocracy has, notwithstanding
this, its peculiar instincts and propensities. We must be careful not to
confound isolated members of a body with the body itself. In all free governments,
of whatsoever form they may be, members of the legal profession will be found
at the head of all parties. The same remark is also applicable to the
aristocracy; for almost all the democratic convulsions which have agitated the
world have been directed by nobles.
A privileged body can never satisfy the ambition of all
its members; it has always more talents and more passions to content and to
employ than it can find places; so that a considerable number of individuals
are usually to be met with who are inclined to attack those very privileges
which they find it impossible to turn to their own account.
I do not, then, assert that all the members of the legal
profession are at all times the friends of order and the opponents of
innovation, but merely that most of them usually are so. In a community in
which lawyers are allowed to occupy, without opposition, that high station
which naturally belongs to them, their general spirit will be eminently
conservative and anti-democratic. When an aristocracy excludes the leaders of
that profession from its ranks, it excites enemies which are the more
formidable to its security as they are independent of the nobility by their
industrious pursuits; and they feel themselves to be its equal in point of
intelligence, although they enjoy less opulence and less power. But whenever an
aristocracy consents to impart some of its privileges to these same
individuals, the two classes coalesce very readily, and assume, as it were, the
consistency of a single order of family interests.
I am, in like manner, inclined to believe that a monarch
will always be able to convert legal practitioners into the most serviceable
instruments of his authority. There is a far greater affinity between this
class of individuals and the executive power than there is between them and the
people; just as there is a greater natural affinity between the nobles and the
monarch than between the nobles and the people, although the higher orders of
society have occasionally resisted the prerogative of the Crown in concert with
the lower classes.
Lawyers are attached to public order beyond every other
consideration, and the best security of public order is authority. It must not
be forgotten that, if they prize the free institutions of their country much,
they nevertheless value the legality of those institutions far more: they are
less afraid of tyranny than of arbitrary power; and provided that the
legislature take upon itself to deprive men of their independence, they are not
dissatisfied.
I am therefore convinced that the prince who, in presence
of an encroaching democracy, should endeavor to impair the judicial authority
in his dominions, and to diminish the political influence of lawyers, would
commit a great mistake. He would let slip the substance of authority to grasp
at the shadow. He would act more wisely in introducing men connected with the
law into the government; and if he entrusted them with the conduct of a
despotic power, bearing some marks of violence, that power would most likely assume
the external features of justice and of legality in their hands.
The government of democracy is favorable to the political
power of lawyers; for when the wealthy, the noble, and the prince are excluded
from the government, they are sure to occupy the highest stations, in their own
right, as it were, since they are the only men of information and sagacity,
beyond the sphere of the people, who can be the object of the popular choice.
If, then, they are led by their tastes to combine with the aristocracy and to
support the Crown, they are naturally brought into contact with the people by
their interests. They like the government of democracy, without participating
in its propensities and without imitating its weaknesses; whence they derive a
twofold authority, from it and over it. The people in democratic states does
not mistrust the members of the legal profession, because it is well known that
they are interested in serving the popular cause; and it listens to them
without irritation, because it does not attribute to them any sinister designs.
The object of lawyers is not, indeed, to overthrow the institutions of
democracy, but they constantly endeavor to give it an impulse which diverts it
from its real tendency, by means which are foreign to its nature. Lawyers
belong to the people by birth and interest, to the aristocracy by habit and by
taste, and they may be looked upon as the natural bond and connecting link of
the two great classes of society.
The profession of the law is the only aristocratic element
which can be amalgamated without violence with the natural elements of
democracy, and which can be advantageously and permanently combined with them.
I am not unacquainted with the defects which are inherent in the character of
that body of men; but without this admixture of lawyer-like sobriety with the
democratic principle, I question whether democratic institutions could long be
maintained, and I cannot believe that a republic could subsist at the present
time if the influence of lawyers in public business did not increase in
proportion to the power of the people.
This aristocratic character, which I hold to be common to
the legal profession, is much more distinctly marked in the United States and
in England than in any other country. This proceeds not only from the legal
studies of the English and American lawyers, but from the nature of the
legislation, and the position which those persons occupy in the two countries.
The English and the Americans have retained the law of precedents; that is to
say, they continue to found their legal opinions and the decisions of their
courts upon the opinions and the decisions of their forefathers. In the mind of
an English or American lawyer a taste and a reverence for what is old is almost
always united to a love of regular and lawful proceedings.
This predisposition has another effect upon the character
of the legal profession and upon the general course of society. The English and
American lawyers investigate what has been done; the French advocate inquires
what should have been done; the former produce precedents, the latter reasons.
A French observer is surprised to hear how often an English dr an American
lawyer quotes the opinions of others, and how little he alludes to his own;
whilst the reverse occurs in France. There the most trifling litigation is
never conducted without the introduction of an entire system of ideas peculiar
to the counsel employed; and the fundamental principles of law are discussed in
order to obtain a perch of land by the decision of the court. This abnegation
of his own opinion, and this implicit deference to the opinion of his
forefathers, which are common to the English and American lawyer, this
subjection of thought which he is obliged to profess, necessarily give him more
timid habits and more sluggish inclinations in England and America than in
France.
The French codes are often difficult of comprehension,
but they can be read by every one; nothing, on the other hand, can be more
impenetrable to the uninitiated than a legislation founded upon precedents. The
indispensable want of legal assistance which is felt in England and in the
United States, and the high opinion which is generally entertained of the
ability of the legal profession, tend to separate it more and more from the people,
and to place it in a distinct class. The French lawyer is simply a man
extensively acquainted with the statutes of his country; but the English or
American lawyer resembles the hierophants of Egypt, for, like them, he is the
sole interpreter of an occult science.
The station which lawyers occupy in England and America
exercises no less an influence upon their habits and their opinions. The
English aristocracy, which has taken care to attract to its sphere whatever is
at all analogous to itself, has conferred a high degree of importance and of
authority upon the members of the legal profession. In English society lawyers
do not occupy the first rank, but they are contented with the station assigned
to them; they constitute, as it were, the younger branch of the English
aristocracy, and they are attached to their elder brothers, although they do
not enjoy all their privileges. The English lawyers consequently mingle the
taste and the ideas of the aristocratic circles in which they move with the
aristocratic interests of their profession.
And indeed the lawyer-like character which I am
endeavoring to depict is most distinctly to be met with in England: there laws
are esteemed not so much because they are good as because they are old; and if
it be necessary to modify them in any respect, or to adapt them the changes
which time operates in society, recourse is had to the most inconceivable
contrivances in order to uphold the traditionary fabric, and to maintain that
nothing has been done which does not square with the intentions and complete
the labors of former generations. The very individuals who conduct these
changes disclaim all intention of innovation, and they had rather resort to
absurd expedients than plead guilty to so great a crime. This spirit appertains
more especially to the English lawyers; they seem indifferent to the real
meaning of what they treat, and they direct all their attention to the letter,
seeming inclined to infringe the rules of common sense and of humanity rather
than to swerve one title from the law. The English legislation may be compared
to the stock of an old tree, upon which lawyers have engrafted the most various
shoots, with the hope that, although their fruits may differ, their foliage at
least will be confounded with the venerable trunk which supports them all.
In America there are no nobles or men of letters, and the
people is apt to mistrust the wealthy; lawyers consequently form the highest
political class, and the most cultivated circle of society. They have therefore
nothing to gain by innovation, which adds a conservative interest to their
natural taste for public order. If I were asked where I place the American
aristocracy, I should reply without hesitation that it is not composed of the
rich, who are united together by no common tie, but that it occupies the
judicial bench and the bar.
The more we reflect upon all that occurs in the United
States the more shall we be persuaded that the lawyers as a body form the most
powerful, if not the only, counterpoise to the democratic element. In that
country we perceive how eminently the legal profession is qualified by its
powers, and even by its defects, to neutralize the vices which are inherent in
popular government. When the American people is intoxicated by passion, or carried
away by the impetuosity of its ideas, it is checked and stopped by the almost
invisible influence of its legal counsellors, who secretly oppose their
aristocratic propensities to its democratic instincts, their superstitious
attachment to what is antique to its love of novelty, their narrow views to its
immense designs, and their habitual procrastination to its ardent impatience.
The courts of justice are the most visible organs by
which the legal profession is enabled to control the democracy. The judge is a
lawyer, who, independently of the taste for regularity and order which he has
contracted in the study of legislation, derives an additional love of stability
from his own inalienable functions. His legal attainments have already raised
him to a distinguished rank amongst his fellow-citizens; his political power
completes the distinction of his station, and gives him the inclinations
natural to privileged classes.
Armed with the power of declaring the laws to be
unconstitutional, *a the American magistrate perpetually interferes in
political affairs. He cannot force the people to make laws, but at least he can
oblige it not to disobey its own enactments; or to act inconsistently with its
own principles. I am aware that a secret tendency to diminish the judicial
power exists in the United States, and by most of the constitutions of the
several States the Government can, upon the demand of the two houses of the
legislature, remove the judges from their station. By some other constitutions
the members of the tribunals are elected, and they are even subjected to
frequent re-elections. I venture to predict that these innovations will sooner
or later be attended with fatal consequences, and that it will be found out at
some future period that the attack which is made upon the judicial power has
affected the democratic republic itself.
a [ See chapter VI. on the
"Judicial Power in the United States."]
It must not, however, be supposed that
the legal spirit of which I have been speaking has been confined, in the United
States, to the courts of justice; it extends far beyond them. As the lawyers
constitute the only enlightened class which the people does not mistrust, they
are naturally called upon to occupy most of the public stations. They fill the
legislative assemblies, and they conduct the administration; they consequently
exercise a powerful influence upon the formation of the law, and upon its
execution. The lawyers are, however, obliged to yield to the current of public
opinion, which is too strong for them to resist it, but it is easy to find
indications of what their conduct would be if they were free to act as they
chose. The Americans, who have made such copious innovations in their political
legislation, have introduced very sparing alterations in their civil laws, and
that with great difficulty, although those laws are frequently repugnant to
their social condition. The reason of this is, that in matters of civil law the
majority is obliged to defer to the authority of the legal profession, and that
the American lawyers are disinclined to innovate when they are left to their
own choice.
It is curious for a Frenchman, accustomed to a very
different state of things, to hear the perpetual complaints which are made in
the United States against the stationary propensities of legal men, and their
prejudices in favor of existing institutions.
The influence of the legal habits which are common in
America extends beyond the limits I have just pointed out. Scarcely any
question arises in the United States which does not become, sooner or later, a
subject of judicial debate; hence all parties are obliged to borrow the ideas,
and even the language, usual in judicial proceedings in their daily
controversies. As most public men are, or have been, legal practitioners, they
introduce the customs and technicalities of their profession into the affairs
of the country. The jury extends this habitude to all classes. The language of
the law thus becomes, in some measure, a vulgar tongue; the spirit of the law,
which is produced in the schools and courts of justice, gradually penetrates
beyond their walls into the bosom of society, where it descends to the lowest
classes, so that the whole people contracts the habits and the tastes of the
magistrate. The lawyers of the United States form a party which is but little
feared and scarcely perceived, which has no badge peculiar to itself, which
adapts itself with great flexibility to the exigencies of the time, and
accommodates itself to all the movements of the social body; but this party
extends over the whole community, and it penetrates into all classes of
society; it acts upon the country imperceptibly, but it finally fashions it to
suit its purposes.
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