For a special purpose, I have had occasion to examine with care thecomments upon American life and institutions made by foreign criticsduring the period that extends from the later part of the eighteenthcentury up to the present time. If one puts aside the frivolous andill-tempered studies and considers alone the fairer and more competentobservers, the least pleasant of all the criticisms is that we areessentially a lawless people.
If the critic, like de Tocqueville and Miss Martineau, had sympathy and[Pg 2]admiration for us, the revealed lawlessness came as an astonishment,because it seemed to upset all sorts of pretty theories about democracy.The doctrinaires had worked out to perfection the idea that a people whocould freely make and unmake their own laws would, for that plainreason, respect the laws. Of course, a people who had laws thrust uponthem from above would hate them and disobey them. But a democracy wouldescape this temptation.
It was apparently an amusement of many of these writers to collect, asdid the jaunty author of "Peter Simple" in his Diary, interminable pagesfrom our own press to illustrate the general contempt for those lawswhich really [Pg 3]interfered with pleasures or economic interests. HarrietMartineau drove through Boston on the day when Garrison was beingdragged through the streets. The flame of her indignation burned high;but it burned with new heat when she found that the very best of Bostonculture and respectability would not lift a finger or pay a copper tohave the law enforced in Mr. Garrison's favor. Beacon Street and Harvardprofessors told her that the victim was a disreputable agitator, richlydeserving what he got. They seemed to think this English lady verycranky and unreasonable. The mob had the entire sympathy of the bestpeople in the community, and that should satisfy her. De Tocquevillehad[Pg 4] an awakening at a polling-booth in Pennsylvania that in the sameway disturbed all his presupposi