Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler (October 15, 1747-January 5, 1813) knighted Lord Woodhouselee, was an English historian. He wrote an essay titled The Principles of Translation, 1791, which was the first systematic study in English of translation.
In his work, Universal History from the Creation of the World to the Beginning of the Eighteen Century (Boston: Fetridge and Company, 1834; 1850), Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler wrote:
<As the Stoics believed the universe to be the work of an all-powerful, all-wise, and supremely beneficent Being, whose providence continually regulates the whole of that system of which every part is so combined as to produce the greatest possible sum of general good; so they regarded man as a principal instrument in the hand of God to accomplish that great purpose.
The Creator, therefore, with transcendent wisdom, had so framed the moral constitution of man, that he finds his own chief happiness in promoting the welfare and happiness of his fellow creatures.
In the free consent of man to fulfill this end of his being, by accommodating his mind to the divine will, and thus endeavoring to discharge his part in society with cheerful zeal, with perfect integrity, with manly resolution, and with an entire resignation to the decrees of Providence, lies the sum and essence of his duty…
From the foregoing brief account of the different sects or schools of philosophy in Greece, I shall draw only two reflections:
The one is, that with a very few exceptions, and more particularly that of the sect last mentioned, amidst all the errors incident to the mind unenlightened by revealed religion, the reason of mankind has, in all ages, looked up to a supreme, intelligent, and omnipotent Being — the Author of our existence — the Creator and the Governor of the universe: a belief which forces itself upon the most uncultivated understanding, and which the advancement of the intellectual powers tends always to strengthen and confirm.
The other reflection is, that, from the great variety and opposition of those systems which we have enumerated of the Greek philosophers, we may perceive among that people a liberal spirit of toleration in matters of opinion, which stopped short at absolute irreligion and impiety; and a freedom of judgment in all matters of philosophical speculation, which did honor to their national character, and the genius of their legislative systems.
If the Greek philosophers did not attain to truth, or to the perfection of science, they had, at least, the road open before them.> 1747AT001
<One great event distinguished the reign of Tiberius. In the 18th year of that reign, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and the divine author of our religion, suffered death upon the cross, a sacrifice and propitiation for the sins of mankind.
It is said that soon after his death, Pilate, the Jewish governor, wrote to Tiberius an account of his passion, resurrection, and miracles, upon which the emperor made a report of the whole to the senate…
The progress of the Christian religion, from its first institution till the utter extinction of Paganism in the Roman Empire, will form the future subject of a connected chapter.> 1747AT002
In Chapter VI of his book, Universal History from the Creation of the World to the Beginning of the Eighteen Century (Boston: Fetridge and Company, 1834; 1850), Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler wrote:
<We have now traced Greece from her origin; from the rude and barbarous periods when she owed even the most necessary arts of life to foreign instructors, through every stage of her progress to the highest rank among the civilized nations of the earth.
We have seen the foundation and rise of her independent states; the vigorous perseverance by which they succeeded in shaking off the yoke of intolerable tyranny, and establishing a popular system of government; the alternate differences of these states from petty quarrels, the fruit of ambition and the love of power; while, at the same time they cordially united their strength and resources to oppose foreign hostilities, when such were formidable enough to threaten their liberties as a nation.
We have remarked the domestic disorders which sprang from the abuse of that freedom which these republics enjoyed; and, finally, that general corruption of manners which, tainting all the springs of public virtue, and annihilating patriotism, at length brought this illustrious nation entirely under subjection to a foreign yoke.
The revolutions which in this progress the states of Greece underwent, and the situations into which they were thrown by their alternate connection and differences, as well as by their wars with foreign powers, were so various, that their history is a school of instruction in politics, as there is scarce a doctrine in that important science which may not find an example or an illustration from their history.
The science of politics, like every other subject of philosophical speculation, admits of a variety of opposite and contradictory opinions — a truth the more to be lamented that of all sciences it is that, where for the interest of mankind it were most to be wished that our reasonings should rest upon solid and fixed principles.
If, however, there is in reality any criterion of the solidity of abstract principles in political reasoning, it must be when we ascertain their coincidence or disagreement with actual experience in the history of nations.
I shall adopt this criterion in laying before my readers a few reflections which naturally arise from the foregoing short delineation of the Grecian history.
The miserable oppression which, according to all accounts of the ancient historians, the states of Greece sustained under their first governors, a set of tyrants, who owed their elevation to violence, and whose rule was subject to no control from existing laws or constitutional restraints, was assuredly a most justifiable motive on the part of the people for emancipating themselves from that state of servitude, and for abolishing entirely that worst of governments — a pure despotism. It is therefore with pleasure we remark, in the early history of this nation, the noble exertion by which those states shook off the yoke of their tyrants, and established for themselves a new system of government on the just and rational basis of an equality of rights and privileges in all the members of the commonwealth.
We admit, without scruple, the belief that those new republics were framed by their virtuous legislators in the true spirit of patriotism. But the intentions of the legislator are no test of the actual merits of the institutions themselves: and it is certain that those boasted republics were very far from exhibiting in practice that perfect system of political freedom which was expected from them in theory.
We seek in vain either in the history of Athens or of Lacedaemon, for the beautiful idea on which speculative writers have exercised their fancy of a well-ordered commonwealth. In treating formerly of the peculiar constitution of those two great and leading states, we endeavored to point out such circumstances as appeared to be defects in the constitution of those political fabrics.
In the republic of Sparta, Lycurgus, by exterminating luxury, by the equal partition of the lands, and by banishing every motive to the ambition of individuals, certainly laid the foundation of that equality among the citizens of his common wealth which is essential to the constitution of a perfect republic.
Yet, under the Spartan government, there were some circumstances which seem totally adverse to this spirit of equality. It was adverse to equality that there should be any citizen invested with the honors and appendages of royalty. The idea of a king possessing rank without power is an absurdity; and if the law denies it him, it will be his constant endeavor to wrest and arrogate it.
The high authority of the Ephori was likewise adverse to the spirit of equality. There was a perpetual contention for superiority of power between those magistrates and the kings; and the people, dividing themselves into parties, bribed to support those opposite and contending interests, furnished a continual source of faction and disorder.
In the Athenian republic the great defect of the constitution seemed to be in this, that it was doubtful where the supreme power was definitively lodged. The senate was, in theory, a wise institution, for it possessed the sole power of convoking the assemblies of the people, and of preparing all business that was to be the subject of discussion in those assemblies.
But, on the other hand, this senate being annually elected, its members were ever under the necessity of courting that people for their votes, and of flattering their prejudices and passions, by adopting and proposing measures which had no other end than to render themselves popular. These delegates were therefore the mean dependents on the mob who elected them. The guardians nominally of the people's rights, they were themselves the abject slaves of a corrupted populace.
The wise purpose of the institution was thus utterly defeated by the single circumstance of the senators being annually elected. There were other radical defects in the constitution of Athens. All the offices of the state were by Solon destined to be filled from the three first classes of the richer citizens. The fourth or inferior class had, however, an equal right of suffrage in the public assembly, and being superior in number to all the other three, had it in their power to carry every question against the higher classes.
Thus there was a perpetual source of discord inherent in this constitution; the power and preeminence of office exclusively vested in one division of the people, which they would jealously maintain by every possible means; while, at the same time, the other was furnished with arms sufficient to defeat that power altogether, or, at least, to maintain at all times a violent struggle for superiority.
The best apology that can be made for Solon is, that his intentions were good. He knew that a constitution purely democratic is an absolute chimera in politics. He knew that the people are themselves incapable of exercising rule, and that, under one name or another, they must be led and controlled.
He wished, therefore, to give them this control by the natural means which the rich possess over the poor; in other words, to moderate the discordant counsels of a populace, in whom lay the rights of deciding, by the influence of an aristocracy who might lead or dictate those decisions; but he knew not how to accomplish this by a clear and explicit definition of the powers of the one body over the other; whence it happened, that neither part of the public having its rights and privileges well defined, they were perpetually quarrelling about the limits of authority, and instead of a salutary and cordial cooperation for the general good of the state, it was an eternal contest for supremacy, and a mutual desire of each other's abasement.
These, which may be esteemed radical defects in the constitution of the two principal republics of Greece, were heightened by several very impolitic laws and customs peculiar to each, which, as I formerly touched on them, I shall not recapitulate. It is sufficient to say, that the detail of the systems of Solon and Lycurgus, such as they are described to us by ancient writers, and the history of those rival republics, both in their quarrels with each other, in their foreign wars, and above all in their intestine factions and disorders, afford full conviction that the form of government which they enjoyed was in itself extremely faulty.
The revolutions to which those states, and particularly the former, was subject, plainly prove that their constitutions were not framed for stability, or for any long measure of duration; and the condition of the people (the true criterion of the merit of any political fabric) was, in reality, such as to partake more of actual servitude and oppression than the condition of the subjects of the most despotic monarchies.
It is a known fact, that the slaves formed by far the greater part of the inhabitants, both of the Athenian and Lacedaemonian states; and to these, more especially at Lacedaeinon, the free citizens behaved with the most inhuman rigor. Neither were the free citizens more inclined to a humane and liberal conduct to those of their own condition; a debtor became ipso facto the slave and bondman of his creditor, who might compel him to labor in bondage and fetters at his pleasure.
Thus, a great part, even of the free citizens, was actually enslaved to the other; a circumstance which we shall see, under the Roman commonwealth, was the source of the most violent civil commotions. We may judge then with what propriety these can be termed free governments, where abject slavery was the condition of the majority of the people.
Nor were the superior classes in the actual enjoyment of a rational liberty and independence. They were perpetually divided into factions, which servilely ranked themselves under the banners of the contending demagogues; and these maintained their influence over their partisans by the most shameful corruption and bribery, of which the means were supplied alone by the plunder of the public money.
The whole, therefore, was a regular system of servitude, which left nothing free or ingenuous in the condition of individuals, nor any thing that can justly furnish encomium to an unprejudiced advocate for the dignity of human nature.
If such was the condition of the chief republics of antiquity, whose liberty we so frequently hear extolled with boundless encomium, and whose constitution we are taught from our childhood to admire, (and, in fact, this may fairly be ranked among the prejudices with which ingenuous youth can scarcely fail to be tinctured from a classical education,) it is not, perhaps, unreasonable to conclude, that a pure and perfect democracy is a thing not attainable by man, constituted as he is of contending elements of vice and virtue, and ever mainly influenced by the predominant principle of self-interest.
It may, indeed, be confidently asserted, that there never was that government called a republic, which was not ultimately ruled by a single will, and, therefore, (however bold may seem the paradox,) virtually and substantially a monarchy. The only difference between governments, with respect to the political freedom of the subject, consists in the greater or the smaller number of restraints by which the regulating will is controlled.
This subject is sufficiently important to merit a short illustration. In every regular state there must be a governing power, whose will regulates the community. In the most despotic governments, that power is lodged in a single person, whose will is subject to no other control than that which arises from the fear of his own deposition.
Of this we have an example in the Ottoman government, which approaches the nearest of any monarchy we know to a pure despotism. But in most monarchies, the will of the person called the sovereign is limited by certain constitutional restraints which he cannot transgress with safety.
In the British government the will of the prince is controlled by a parliament; in other limited monarchies, by a council of state, whose powers are acknowledged and defined. But this parliament, or council, which thus limits the will of the prince, is in those matters where it exercises its right of limitation, superior to the will of the prince, and, therefore, in fact, the sovereign power of the state.
Now this controlling power, consisting apparently of a number of wills, is, in reality, always led by a single will; by some individual of great and commanding talents, to whose acknowledged superiority his equals in rank or office either all pay a willing obedience, or whose partisans are generally sufficient to outnumber his opponents. Thus we have a single will in the council opposed to, or controlling the will of the prince.
But where there are two contending wills, one must of necessity yield to the other. The king must either rule the leader of the council, or the latter must rule the former; and in this case, though not nominally, it cannot be denied that the latter is, in reality, in any such exercise of his will, the supreme power of the state. Thus it is in limited monarchies.
Now how does the matter stand with respect to a republic or democracy? Precisely the same. The people flatter themselves that they have the sovereign power. These are, in fact, words without meaning. It is true they elect their governors; but how are these elections brought about?
In every instance of election by the mass of a people — through the influence of those governors themselves, and by means the most opposite to a free and disinterested choice, by the basest corruption and bribery. But these governors once elected, where is the boasted freedom of the people? They must submit to their rule and control, with the same abandonment of their natural liberty, the freedom of their will, and the command of their actions, as if they were under the rule of a monarch.
But these governors, it is said, are, in a republic, chosen from the people itself, and therefore will respect its interests; they are not one but many, and the will of each will have a control from that of his fellows. That they are chosen from the people affords no pledge that they will either be wiser men, or less influenced by selfish ambition, or the passion of tyrannizing; all experience goes to prove the contrary: and that the will of the many is in truth a mere chimera, and ultimately resolves into the will of one, we have already shown.
An equality of power and a freedom of will cannot exist in a society of a hundred rulers, or even in a decemvirate, a triumvirate, or barely in a divided sovereignty, as the commonwealth of Sparta. The superior ability will constantly draw after it the superior command, and be in effect the sovereign of the state; it matters not under which name, whether emperor, king, consul, protector, stadtholder, or simply tribune or burgo master.
If that principle I set out with is -a truth, viz.: that actual experience deduced from the history of nations is the surest test of the truth or falsehood of any doctrine of politics, it may be no use less task if we endeavor to apply this criterion to some political doctrines which have the support of a great name, and have on that account obtained a pretty general currency.
The author of the "Spirit of Laws," a work which must ever be regarded as the production of a most enlightened mind, has built a great deal of plausible and ingenious reasoning on this general idea, that the three distinct forms of government, the monarchical, the despotic, and the republican, are influenced by three separate principles, upon which the whole system in each form is constructed, and on which it must depend for its support.
"The principle of the monarchical form," says Montesquieu, "is honor; of the despotical, fear; and of the republican, virtue:" a position which, if true, would at once determine to which of the three forms the preference ought to be given in speculating on their comparative degrees of merit. In order to examine this important position, which is the foundation of a most elaborate theory, and from which the author draws conclusions deeply affecting the interests of society, we shall take the example of the republic, with the nature and character of which form, we have had some opportunity of being acquainted from the preceding short sketch of the history of the Grecian commonwealths.
The ingenious author of an Essay on the History of Civil Society (Dr. Adam Ferguson, 1767) thus enlarges on the idea of M. Montesquieu: —
"In democracy," says he, "men must love equality; they must respect the rights of their fellow citizens; they must unite by the common ties of affection to the state. In forming personal pretensions, they must be satisfied with that degree of consideration which they can procure by their abilities fairly measured with those of an opponent. They must labor for the public without hope of profit. They must reject every attempt to create a personal dependence. Candor, force and elevation of mind, in short, are the props of democracy, and virtue is the principle required to its preservation."
A beautiful picture — a state indeed of consummate perfection! But the author proceeds: —
"How ardently should mankind wish for the form, if it tended to establish the principle, or were in every instance a sure indication of its presence! But perhaps we must have possessed the principle, in order, with any hopes of advantage, to receive the form."
The last sentence is a fair and just conclusion, which needed not the cautious form in which it is expressed. The author plainly intimates his own opinion, in which every thinking mind will agree with him, that this beautiful picture, which he has drawn correctly after the sketch of Montesquieu, is nothing better than an Utopian theory; a splendid chimera, descriptive of a state of society that never did, and never could exist; a republic not of men, but of angels.
For where, it may be asked, was that democracy ever found on earth, where, in the words of this description, men loved equality; were satisfied with the degree of consideration they could procure by their abilities fairly measured with those of an opponent, (a circumstance in itself utterly destructive of equality,) labored for the public without hope of profit, and rejected every attempt to create a personal dependence?
Did such a government ever exist, or, while society consists of human beings, is it possible that such ever should exist? While man is a being instigated by the love of power — a passion visible in an infant, and common to us even with the inferior animals — he will seek personal superiority in preference to every matter of a general concern; or at best, he will employ himself in advancing the public good, as the means of individual distinction and elevation: he will promote the interest of the state from the selfish but most useful passion of making himself considerable in that establishment which he labors to aggrandize.
Such is the true picture of man as a political agent. But let us not be understood, that what is here affirmed with regard to the community at large, is strictly true of every member who composes it. If we look in vain for disinterested patriotism in the aggregate of a people, it would be a rash and unjust conclusion to assert that no such virtue exists in the breasts of individuals.
The same evidence of history which proves the truth of the one assertion, would suffice to disprove the other. The annals of the Greek and Roman states record examples of the most exalted patriotic virtue in a few distinguished characters, whose names have come down with honor to modern times, and are destined to survive to the latest posterity.
But these examples afford in themselves a proof which fully confirms the general proposition. The admiration which those virtuous individuals excited while they lived, the lasting honors that attend their memory, demonstrate the singularity and rareness of that character, the difficulty of its attainment, and thence the distinguished honors which it claims, as approaching as near as possible to the ideal perfection of human nature.
Dissenting as I do from the notion of Montesquieu, that virtue is the principle of a democratic government, I am yet ready to allow (what may seem at first view paradoxical) that this form of government is the best adapted to produce, though not the most frequent, yet the most striking, examples of virtue in individuals.
But why? Even for a reason the very opposite to the opinion of that ingenious writer. A democratic government opposes more impediments to disinterested patriotism than any other form. To surmount these, a pitch of virtue is necessary which, in other situations, where the obstacles are less great and numerous, is not called into exertion.
The nature of a republican government gives to every member of the state an equal right to cherish views of ambition, and to aspire to the highest offices of the common wealth; it gives to every individual the same title with his fellows to aspire at the government of the whole. Where talents alone are sufficient to obtain weight and distinction, we may look for a display of ambition in all who have a high opinion of their own abilities.
The number of candidates excites rivalships, contentions, and factions. The glorious names of liberty and patriotism are always found effectual to rouse and inflame the multitude; rarely indeed to blind them to the real character and views of the demagogue, but ever sufficient to be a mask for their own love of tumult and the hatred of their superiors.
In such a state of society, how rare is genuine virtue; how singular the character of a truly disinterested patriot! He appears and he is treated as an imposter; he attempts to serve his country in its councils, or in offices; he is calumniated, reviled, and persecuted; he dies in disgrace or in banishment; and the same envy which maligned him living, embalms him dead, and showers encomiums on his memory, to depress and mortify the few surviving imitators of his virtues.
We have seen, from the history of the Grecian states, that a democracy has produced some splendid models of genuine patriotism in the persons of Aristides, Miltiades, and Cimon. We have seen the reward that attended that character under this form of government, of which we are taught to believe that virtue is the principle.
In the science of politics, more than in any other, the greatest caution is necessary in the adoption of general positions. The theory- of M. Montesquieu leads, apparently by fair induction, to a variety of consequences most deeply interesting to man, not only in his political, but in his moral capacity.
How seriously ought those general propositions to be canvassed and scrutinized, from which their author (Montesquieu, ‘Spirit of the Laws’) has deduced such consequences as the following!
‘That as in a democracy there is no occasion for the principle of honor, so in a monarchy virtue is not at all necessary; that under the latter government the state can subsist independently of the love of country, of the passion of true glory, and of every heroic virtue; that the laws supply the place of those virtues, and the state dispenses with, them; that under a monarchy, a virtuous man ought not to hold office; that public employments ought to be venal; and that crimes, if kept secret, are of no consequence.’
If, instead of theoretical speculation, we take history for our guide, and thence form a fair estimate of the condition of the subject under all the different forms of the political machine, we shall be in no danger of having our reason blinded and abused by such absurd and pernicious chimeras, with whatever sophistry they are disguised to our understanding.
The history of the states of Greece exhibits in its earliest period a very general diffusion of the patriotic spirit, and the love of ingenuous freedom.
Those virtuous feelings became gradually corrupted as the nation advanced in power and splendor.
Selfish ambition and the desire of rule in the commonwealth came in place of the thirst for national glory; and at length the enthusiasm for freedom, which was at first the glowing character of the Grecian states, gave place to an enthusiasm of another kind, still of an ingenuous nature, though far less worthy in its aim, — an admiration of the fine arts, a passion for the objects of taste, and all those refinements which are the offspring of luxury.
Patriotism always exists in the greatest degree in rude nations, and in an early period of society. Like all other affections and passions, it operates with the greatest force where it meets with the greatest difficulties. It seems to be a virtue which grows from opposition; which subsists in its greatest vigor amidst turbulence and dangers; but in a state of ease and safety, as if wanting its appropriate nourishment, it languishes and decays.
We must not then wonder at that difference of patriotic character which distinguished the Greeks in the early ages of their history, from that by which they were known in their more advanced and more luxurious periods. It is a law of nature to which no experience has ever furnished an exception, that the rising grandeur and opulence of a nation must be balanced by the decline of its heroic virtues.
When we find in the latter ages of the Grecian history, and in the declension of the Roman commonwealth and subsequent periods of the empire, no traces of that noble spirit of patriotism which excited our respect and admiration when they were infant and narrow establishments, it is not that the race of men had degenerated, or that the same soil and climate which formerly produced heroes could now only rear abject slaves and luxurious tyrants.
Nature is still the same; and man comes the same from the hand of nature; but artificial causes have thrown him into that situation which affords no exercise to passions which once had their amplest scope and operation; which banishes virtue by diminishing its objects and annihilating its most substantial rewards; for wealth and ease and safety deny all exertion to heroic virtue; and in a society marked by these characteristics, such endowment can neither lead to power, to eminence, nor to fame.
Such was the situation of Greece, when, extending her conquests and importing both the wealth and the manners of foreign nations, she lost with her ancient poverty her ancient virtue. Venality and corruption pervaded every department of her states, and became the spring of all public measures, which, instead of tending to the national welfare, had for their only object the gratification of the selfish passions of individuals.
Under these circumstances, it was no wonder that she should become an easy prey to a foreign power, which in fact rather purchased her in the market, than subdued her by force of arms.
Yet Greece, thus degenerate and fallen from the proud eminence she once maintained, continued in some respects to hold a distinguished rank among the contemporary nations. Conquered as she was, she continued in one point of view to preserve a high superiority even over the power which had subdued and enslaved her. Her progress in letters and philosophy, and her unrivalled eminence in the arts, compensated in some degree the loss of her national liberties, and forced even from her conquerors an avowal of her superiority in every department of science and mental energy.
The victors did not blush to become the scholars of the vanquished. The most eminent of the Roman orators perfected themselves in their art in the school of Athens. The Greek philosophy had for some ages its disciples in Italy; and from the golden era of the administration of Pericles at Athens, the Greeks furnished the models of all that is excellent in the arts of poetry, painting, sculpture, and architecture.
We proceed, therefore, to take a short survey of the attainments of the Greeks in those departments of science and of art, beginning with an account of their extraordinary eminence in sculpture, painting, and architecture, in which they arrived at a pitch of perfection which has been the admiration and envy of all succeeding ages.> 1747AT003
A statement attributed to Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler first appeared in an op-ed piece in The Daily Oklahoman, December 9, 1951, under the byline Elmer T. Peterson:
<Two centuries ago, a somewhat obscure Scotsman named Tytler made this profound observation:
A democracy cannot exist as a permanent form of government. It can only exist until the majority discovers it can vote itself largess out of the public treasury. After that, the majority always votes for the candidate promising the most benefits with the result the democracy collapses because of the loose fiscal policy ensuing, always to be followed by a dictatorship, then a monarchy.> 1747AT004
In 1943, H.W. Prentis, president of the Armstrong Cork Company and former president of the National Association of Manufacturers, gave a speech titled "Industrial Management in a Republic," where the first known appearance of the thesis, "Cycle of Nations," was used to describe the decline and fall of the Athenian Republic:
<From bondage to spiritual faith; From spiritual faith to great courage; From courage to liberty;
From liberty to abundance; From abundance to selfishness;
From selfishness to complacency; From complacency to apathy; From apathy to dependence;
From dependence back into bondage.> 1747AT005
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American Quotations by William J. Federer, 2024, All Rights Reserved, Permission granted to use with acknowledgement.
Endnotes:
1747AT001. William J. Federer, American Quotations (2014). Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler, Unversal History from the Creation of the World to the Beginning of the Eighteen Century (Boston: Fetridge and Company, 1834; 1850).
1747AT002. William J. Federer, American Quotations (2014). Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler, Unversal History from the Creation of the World to the Beginning of the Eighteen Century (Boston: Fetridge and Company, 1934; 1850).
1747AT003. William J. Federer, American Quotations (2014). Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler, Unversal History from the Creation of the World to the Beginning of the Eighteen Century (Boston: Fetridge and Company, 1834; 1850), Chapter VI.
1747AT004. William J. Federer, American Quotations (2014). Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler. Library of Congress, Respectfully Quoted, Attributed to Alexander Fraser Tytler, Lord Woodhouselee. Unverified. First documented appearance in The Daily Oklahoman, December 9, 1951, p. 12A, op-ed piece “This is the Hard Core of Freedom” by Elmer T. Peterson. The New York Times Book Review, May 3, 1959, in the "Queries and Answers" column, p. 35. John E. Swearingen speech, September 27, 1961. Ronald Reagan, taped speech played March 5, 1964 at a Barry Goldwater rally, Manchester, New Hampshire, printed the next day on the first page of the Manchester Union Leader, under the article "Roar Approval of Barry." Reagan used the quote again June 8, 1965, at a dinner for Rep. John M. Ashbrook in Granville, Ohio. In a Seattle Times letter- to-the-editor, April 10, 1987. E.M. Blaiklock, The Decline and Fall of Athenian Democracy, a lecture given September 21, 1948. American Notes & Queries in November 1964. P.J. O'Rourke, Parliament of Whores, (1991). Usenet post by Tom Buckley, September 6, 1983. Loren Collins, "The Truth About Tytler," http://www.lorencollins.net/tytler.html
1747AT005. William J. Federer, American Quotations (2014). Sir Alexander Fraser Tytler. In 1943, H.W. Prentis, president of the Armstrong Cork Company and former president of the National Association of Manufacturers, in a speech titled "Industrial Management in a Republic," made the first known reference of the "Cycle of Nations" as used to describe the decline and fall of the Athenian Republic. Loren Collins, "The Truth About Tytler," http://www.lorencollins.net/tytler.html Dan Vrechek, J.D., M.B.A., "The Economy: A Corporate Attorney's View" (Mayflower Institute Journal, Mayflower Institute, P.O. Box 4673, Thousand Oaks, California 91359), Vol. 23, No. 4, May 2001, p. 2.