CHAPTER XXVIII. Forest life | ||
28. CHAPTER XXVIII.
Their joys disparage, nor their hopes deride;
From germs like these have mighty statesmen sprung,
Of prudent counsel and persuasive tongue.
Mrs. Sigourney.
Who are the characters most highly esteemed by
the Western settler? Politicians certainly. And
why? Because improvements in social condition
alone occupy the attention of the people. Individual
improvement has not yet assumed its real importance
in our eyes. We entertain a deep reverence
for the sacred office, but we are apt to be
somewhat critical on the individual who fills it.
Critical, not after the manner of city congregations,
—for we care little for modes of speech, or graces
of action, or the opinions of a clique,—but on the
severer points of zeal, spirituality, sincerity, and
above all, freedom from pride, and from a desire
for exclusiveness. On these points we are strict
and merciless judges, and such is our dread of priest-craft,
that we do not always remember that Christian
charity, humility and diffidence are graces
which become equally priest and people. We are
fond of lawyers, but we have ever a lurking fear
that they know too much. We are incessantly
seeking their assistance, but we always congratulate
dealings with them, which shows a certain degree
of distrust. The merchant is a necessary and often
a powerful member of the community; and he
would be a popular one if it were not for the occasional
compulsory collection of debts, which casts
at least a temporary shadow upon his good name.
As to the physician, it is natural enough that a man
who works all day for half a dollar should think
hard of paying as much or more for a ten minutes'
“visit,” and where land can be bought for ten shillings
the acre, it is not to be wondered at that the
farmer should grudge to give twice as much for
being cupped, since he has not the remotest idea
of the expense incurred in acquiring the skill which
looks to him like mere intuition. But let any of
these superadd to his professional claims the character
of a warm, unflinching politician, or let him
acquire this last without an attempt at any thing
further, and all distrust vanishes at once, and he
passes as “a fellow with a whole soul,” who has
discovered the true end of man, and the direct path
to honor and usefulness.
If I were called on to state the quality which
more than any other formed the especial characteristic
of the Western settler, I should name Self-dependence—a
direct manifestation of that which
has been given as a national bias—Individualism.
The very effort required to break away from the
ties of kindred, and from all cherished memories,
which prefers equality, among the poor, to any of
the advantages to be gained by living among the
rich in an inferior position. The man who has
done this feels that he can do more, and the thought
that in the wilderness he starts fair at least, is a
potent encouragement. If the lower classes of
mechanics in our great cities could be induced to
look fate in the face, and, borrowing a little of this
same self-reliance from the emigrant, venture to
follow where he has boldly led the way, instances
of discouragement, temptation, evil courses, despair
and crime would be less numerous, in the byways
of those great Babels; while our smiling
villages, supplied by this means with what they
most need, would afford, in return, both business
and bread, enough and to spare. With us it is
emphatically true that “a man's a man”—and if
he “wear hodden gray,” he is none the worse, but
the better.
Nothing contributes more to increase this spirit of
self-dependence than the electioneering contests,
and the share which all, directly or indirectly, take
in the management of public affairs. This even I
must acknowledge, although I deprecate the evils
which grow out of the frequency of elections and
the blind pursuit of one form of good to the neglect
of all others. The good is a great good, without
doubt, and it is shared by all without exclusion.
In a town containing one hundred voters, about one
about one fourth are elected. The principle of
rotation in office is carried out, and there are few
of the citizens who in the course of three or four
years do not have a share in this species of sovereignty.
Small is the remuneration attached to these
town offices, smaller still, in the world's view, the
honor belonging to them; yet their exercise performs
a most important part in the training of our
people, and exerts a powerful influence over their
characters. This is in fact the real education of
the community. The portion derived from our
common schools is by comparison a mere nullity.
Every office has some portion of responsibility
attached to it, requires some acquaintance with the
laws of the land and the exercise of some degree of
discretion; and, moreover, invests the possessor for
the time being with a little consequence in the eyes
of others, and not a little in his own. Each town
is of itself a little republic, and the town affairs,
taken collectively, are vastly more important in
their bearing on the welfare of the people than
the action of our general and state governments.
This subject does not always attract the attention
it deserves. We speak of our people governing
themselves, meaning thereby that through their
representatives they do ultimately and remotely
control the action of the bodies to which those representatives
belong. This is truly an important
part of the sovereignty of the people, but it is not
exercise in the primary assemblies has a far greater
influence on the character and welfare of the nation.
In these assemblies is determined the amount to be
raised for town purposes, the sums to be expended
on highways, and many other items directly connected
with the general prosperity. To the school
districts is left in great measure the regulation of
their own schools, and no one can resist a tax
levied for the building or repairing of one of these
important edifices. Much the greater portion of
taxes is expended within the town, and over this
the citizens exercise absolute control.
It is in these various gatherings of the people for
the transaction of public business, that the democracy
of the country really exhibits itself, and where
it is seen entirely paramount. In the greater assemblies,
a thousand other influences are brought
to bear, besides the mere will and wishes, or what
may be termed the choice, of the people. Not so
in town-meeting. Every man there speaks for himself,
acts for himself, votes for himself; and, in so
doing, is a more correct image of the republics of
antiquity, than the grand representative assemblies
of our country. We must not therefore expect in
them touches of Demosthenian eloquence, though
as to fire we may be allowed to doubt whether
even the great Athenian excelled the backwoods-man.
Fortunately neither life nor liberty, nor the
glory nor the existence of the nation is at stake,
warmer debate heard than in these halls of true
democratic simplicity. He who should omit reckoning
these influences in his estimation of national
and especially Western character, would resemble
the botanist, who, in his description of a plant,
should forget to mention its root or its blossom.
The very organization of a school-district, and the
various steps that are required to be taken by the
parents with regard to it, have probably more influence
on them in enlarging their comprehension, and
giving them an item of practical knowledge in the
transaction of public business, than the school itself
will exercise in improving the minds of the children.
So it is with regard to roads. The consultation
about them, the choice of commissioner and of
path-masters, the determination of sites, the appraisal
of damages consequent on encroachments
upon farms, the ordering of methods of improvements,
with the directing of the labor to be bestowed,
certainly tend to improve the faculties of
those concerned, whether it benefits the roads or
not. That is another consideration.
Whoever supposes that this system is one which
necessarily leads to good roads, good schools, a
good and cheap provision for the poor, and the best
administration of the laws,—is greatly mistaken.
The ever-recurring change of officers prevents any
important gain from experience, and is an absolute
bar to any regularly-pursued system. The responsibility
expedients are of course resorted to, having little or
no prospective bearing. It is a little too much to
suppose every man born with such a capacity for
public business as to enable him to dispense with
all preparatory training, and the slovenly mode in
which affairs are conducted shows the necessity for
the lessons of experience.
Are we then to abandon our system of town government,
and look to state officers to regulate our
town affairs? By no means. These duties form
too valuable a part of the education of our citizens,
and although we pay dearly enough for it, it must
be considered worth all it costs. In some countries
they educate the children; in our new countries
this point is poorly enough attended to, but
the deficiency is in part supplied by the education
of the men. But it is folly to suppose we get the
benefit without cost. Perhaps it is all the better
that we are not sensible what it does cost. A direct
tax to the same amount would be intolerable.
CHAPTER XXVIII. Forest life | ||