Fisher Ames, "The Republican. No. II" (1804)
We justly consider the condition of civil liberty as the most exalted to which any nation can aspire; but high as its rank is, and precious as are its prerogatives, it has not pleased God, in the order of his providence, to confer this preeminent blessing, except upon a very few, and those very small, spots of the universe. The rest sit in darkness, and as little desire the light of liberty, as they are fit to endure it.
We are ready to wonder, that the best gifts are the most sparingly bestowed, and rashly to conclude, that despotism is the decree of heaven, because by far the largest part of the world lies bound in its fetters. But either on tracing the course of events in history, or on examining the character and passions of man, we shall find that the work of slavery is his own, and that he is not condemned to wear chains till he has been his own artificer to forge them. We shall find that society cannot subsist, and that the streets of Boston would be worse than the lion's den, unless the appetites and passions of the violent are made subject to an adequate control. How much control will be adequate to that end, is a problem of no easy solution beforehand, and of no sort of difficulty after some experience. For all who have any thing to defend, and all indeed who have nothing to ask protection for but their lives, will desire that protection; and not only acquiesce, but rejoice in the progress of those slave-making intrigues and tumults, which at length assure to society its repose, though it sleeps in bondage. Thus it will happen, and as it is the course of nature, it cannot be resisted, that there will soon or late be control and government enough.
It is also obvious, that there may be, and probably will be, the least control and the most liberty there, where the turbulent passions are the least excited, and where the old habits and sober reasons of the people are left free to govern them.
Hence it is undeniably plain, that the mock patriots, the opposers of Washington and the Constitution, from 1788 to this day, who, under pretext of being the people's friends, have kept them in a state of continual jealousy, irritation, and discontent, have deceived the people, and perhaps themselves, in regard to the tendency of their principles and conduct; for instead of lessening the pressure of government, and contracting the sphere of its powers, they have removed the field-marks that bounded its exercise, and left it arbitrary and without limits. The passions of the people have been kept in agitation, till the influence of truth, reason, and the excellent habits we derive from our ancestors is lost or greatly impaired; till it is plain, that those, whom manners and morals can no longer govern, must be governed by force; and that force a dominant faction derives from the passions of its adherents; on that alone they rely.
Take one example, which will illustrate the case as well as a hundred; the British treaty [Jay's Treaty 1793] was opposed by a faction, headed by six or eight mob leaders in our cities, and a rabble, whom the arts of these leaders had trained for their purpose. Could a feeble government, could mere truth and calm reason, pointing out the best public interest, have carried that treaty through, and effected its execution in good faith, had not the virtue and firmness of Washington supplied an almost superhuman energy to its powers at the moment? No treaty made by the government has ever proved more signally beneficial. The nature of the treaty, however, is not to the point of the present argument. Suppose a mob opposition had defeated it, and confusion, if not war, had ensued, the confusion that very society is fated to suffer, when, on a trial of strength, a faction in its bosom is found stronger than its government; on this supposition, and that the conquering faction had seized the reins of power, is it to be believed that they would not instantly provide against a like opposition to their own treaties? Did they not so provide, and annex Louisiana, and squander millions in a week? Have we not seen in France, how early and how effectually the conqueror takes care to prevent another rival from playing the same game, by which he himself prevailed against his predecessor?
Let any man, who has any understanding, exercise it to see that the American jacobin party, by rousing the popular passions, inevitably augments the powers of government, and contracts within narrower bounds, and on a less sound foundation, the privileges of the people.
Facts, yes facts, that speak in terror to the soul, confirm this speculative reasoning. What limits are there to the prerogatives of the present administration? and whose business is it, and in whose power does it lie, to keep them within those limits? Surely not in the senate: the small States are now in vassalage, and they obey the nod of Virginia. Not in the judiciary: that fortress, which the Constitution had made too strong for an assault, can now be reduced by famine. The Constitution, alas! that sleeps with Washington, having no mourners but the virtuous, and no monument but history. Louisiana, in open and avowed defiance of the Constitution, is by treaty to be added to the union; the bread of the children of the union is to be taken and given to the dogs.
Judge then, good men and true, judge by the effects, whether the tendency of the intrigues of the party was to extend or contract the measure of popular liberty. Judge whether the little finger of Jefferson is not thicker than the loins of Washington's administration; and, after you have judged, and felt the terror that will be inspired by the result, then reflect how little your efforts can avail to prevent the continuance, nay, the perpetuity of his power. Reflect, and be calm. Patience is the virtue of slaves, and almost the only one that will pass for merit with their masters.