Information important to compare criminal investigation methods here with our own.

To know if it often happens that from fear or selfishness people are unwilling to bear witness.

Look into divorce.

Another principle of American society of which one should never lose sight: every individual being the most competent judge of his own interest, society must not carry its solicitude on his behalf too far, for fear that in the end he might come to count on society, and so a duty might be laid on society which it is incapable of performing.

It is in virtue of this principle that the Americans claim that, without criminal investigation police, they succeed in uncovering it and pointing out the offenders, a task which no administrative department could ever fulfill in the same way.

But the useful mean between these theories is hard to grasp.

In America free morals have made free political institutions; in France it is for free political institutions to mould morals. That is the end towards which we must strive but without forgetting the point of departure.

England is weighed down by an enormous debt and intolerable taxes. Many people say that it is English aristocratic institutions that are to blame for this. That is partly true. But should one not take into consideration the political difficulties in which England has found herself placed, and from which a democratic government would not have extricated her not at less expense, and, no doubt, with less prosperity and glory than the aristocracy?

Every religious doctrine has a political doctrine which, by affinity, is attached to it. That is an incontestable point in the sense that, where nothing runs contrary to that tendency, it is sure to show itself. But it does not follow that it is impossible to separate religious doctrines from all their political effects. On the contrary, in almost every country in the world one has see material interests bring about this separation. The Catholics in Canada and in the United States are invariably the supporters of the democratic party. Does it follow that Catholicism leads to the democratic spirit? No. But the Catholics there are poor and almost all come from a country where the aristocracy is Protestant.

(Tocqueville, p. 148)

"I admit," said he to me, "that we are in a special position which is very favorable. But nonetheless I am not without hope that all enlightened nations will follow our example."

"What!" I said. "You think that the time will come when all the great nations of Europe will be able to achieve an unlimited democracy like yours?"

"That is what I hope," he said. "Especially those nations which are already or will become Protestant. I think Protestantism is indispensable for a republican people. With us religion is the surest guarantee of freedom. Religion progresses hand in hand with freedom, and pours its blessings on its principles. If ever we cease to be religious, I shall feel that our condition is very dangerous. All enlightened men share this view. We know that immigrants to the West are getting somewhat detached from the religious habits of their fathers. We are acutely disturbed about this and appreciate so clearly the political danger of allowing an irreligious society to get established near us, that we are spending enormous sums in helping the people of the West to found schools and churches. Many New England families have gone to settle in the Mississippi valleys simply in order to form a nucleus of religious people there."

I said to Mr. Clay: "One thing that particularly favors a republic with you is that your country is composed of little, almost entirely separate nations."

He answered: "That is even truer than you realize. Not only does each State form a nation, but each town in the State is a little nation. Each ward of a town is a little nation and has its own particular interests, government, representatives, in a word its own political life. As long as Paris remains France, you will have rule of the populace, not of the people."

(Tocqueville, p.54)

Journal entry about religion

Today I went to see Mr. Channing the very celebrated preacher and the most noteworthy writer in the America of today (in a serious vein). Mr. Channing is a small man who seems worn out with work. But his eyes are full of fire and his manners kindly. He has one of the best-carrying voices I have heard. He received us warmly and we had a long conversation of which the following are extracts:

We spoke of the paucity of religion in France and he answered: "I take the most keen and constant interest in France, and I believe that the destiny of the whole of Europe is joined to hers. You wield an immense moral power around you, and all the nations of the continent will follow you on the road on which you set out. You have in your hands more power for good or evil than any people that has ever existed. I do not think one should despair of seeing France religious. Everything in your history bears witness to your being a religious people. And besides I think that religion is so pressing a need of the human heart that it is contrary to the nature of things that a great nation should remain irreligious. I hope on the contrary that you will make a new step towards human perfectibility, and that you will not stop like the English in midroad. They have stopped at the Protestantism of the seventeenth century. I am confident that France has been called to higher destinies and will discover a still purer form of religion."

We talked to Mr. Channing about Unitarianism, and we told him that many people belonging to other Protestant sects had spoken to us about it with disfavor. ...

(Tocqueville, p. 52)

This class is not very numerous at Boston, as you well believe, but still it exists, and it is all the more curious to examine because it finds itself thrown, as if by hazard, in the midst of a republican society, whose principle is an absolute equality and with which it forms a strange anomaly. I took on all the facts I observed a mass of notes, which will serve me later on, if on my return I accomplish my projects of literary composition.

Right up to the end we were treated at Boston with extreme distinction; each day we had new invitations. Here is how, generally, we spent our day. When we could get up a little early, we made notes on the objects to be observed. Ordinarily this labor was not long, in view of the fact that we had breakfasted at half past seven (such is the rule of the hotel where we were). After breakfast we ran to the post to se if some letters hadn't come for us from France by the New York bag. We rarely had the joy of finding any; but then how happy we were when a packet had arrived!

We could scarce pass once or twice in a street without being approached by someone; it was moreover a series of perpetual engagements from one day to the other. When we could escape the visits and the necessity of making them, we went to spend a few instants at the library of the Athenaeum; but even this place was not a certain asylum from the ingenious searches of our good friends; and when we were encountered they always demonstrated to us that we were under the obligation to go see such and such remarkable public establishment, a such and such distinguished man who wished to see us, etc., etc, etc. In this way we made more than one boring expedition. For example, when it was necessary to spend an hour in a hospital examining, in full representation, all the miseries of human life, I confess that I would willingly have yielded my place to another. ...

To return to the history of our life at Boston, you shall know that almost every day we were invited to dinner in the city. We made some excellent meals, they live very well in Boston. They have but a single fault, which is that of drinking too much. One has all the difficulty in the world avoiding the toasts which are offered. The dinner usually takes place at 2 or 3 o'clock; it is prolonged quite late because they have here as in England, the habit of staying at table, when the dinner is finished, in order to drink and make conversation at the same time.

However, at 6 o'clock one can withdraw without offending any one and that is what we always did, because we were usually engaged to take tea somewhere. Now tea is taken at half past 6 or 7 o'clock; it was not without its use for us in helping us digest. After having spent one or two hours, in the house where we took tea, we had to return to our hotel in order to dress so as to put ourselves in costume de bal. We had balls or soirees dansantes every day, and sometimes 2 or 3 the same day. ...

Among the persons whom we most enjoyed seeing and whose society presented to us the greatest interest are Mr. Webster, the most remarkable orator of the United States; Mr. Adams, ex-president of the United States, a sort of dethroned king who is full of esprit and whose conversation is most interesting. Mr. Channing, writer of greatest merit, also keenly interested in us.

[written] Oct. 7, 1831

(Pierson, p. 390)