Abstract

On the evening of November 5, 1831, a young Frenchman by the name of Alexis de Tocqueville met the last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence, Charles Carroll of Carrollton. Just a little over a year after their meeting, Carroll, age 95, would pass away to much acclaim from the young republic. He would be memorialized as a great man in Israel and as the last of the Romans. That he would be remembered as both a Hebrew prophet and a Republican demigod would not shock the young Frenchman. Indeed, Carroll impressed Tocqueville so much that he lamented that “this race of men is disappearing now after having provided America with her greatest spirits.” With the passing of the revolutionary generation, Tocqueville continued, “the tradition of cultivated manners is lost; the people is becoming enlightened, attainments spread, and a middling ability becomes common. The striking talents, the great characters, are rare. Society,” he thought, “is less brilliant and more prosperous.” Whereas Europe had theorized about such great men in the eighteenth-century Enlightenment, America had actually produced a genius generation. Carroll was the last remnant. Carroll reminisced proudly about his days in the American Revolution, his own thoughts on independence, and his respect for the English. Tocqueville, it seems, listened with rapt attention.