The government of the United States is a device for maintaining

In an age of quiet strength and deliberate wisdom, when words carried the weight of conviction, Calvin Coolidge, the thirtieth President of the United States, declared a truth that still resounds through the chambers of time:
"The government of the United States is a device for maintaining in perpetuity the rights of the people, with the ultimate extinction of all privileged classes."

This was not the rhetoric of revolution, nor the cry of envy, but the calm and reasoned faith of a man who understood the sacred purpose of self-government. Coolidge, often called “Silent Cal” for his restraint in speech, believed deeply that the greatness of America lay not in the majesty of its institutions, but in the moral equality of its citizens. His words illuminate a profound idea — that the government exists not to serve a select few, nor to preserve privilege, but to safeguard liberty for all. In this vision, America was not built as a hierarchy, but as a covenant: a promise that every man and woman, regardless of birth or station, holds the same rights, endowed by their Creator and protected by the law.

The meaning of Coolidge’s words strikes at the heart of democracy itself. He saw the United States government as more than a structure of laws; he saw it as an instrument of justice, designed to preserve freedom by ensuring equality before the law. The “extinction of all privileged classes” was not a call to destroy wealth or success — it was a call to end the ancient tyranny of inherited superiority, where titles and bloodlines decided worth. For centuries, monarchies and aristocracies had ruled over the masses, claiming divine right as their shield. But the Founders of America, and those like Coolidge who inherited their dream, sought to shatter those chains forever. In his vision, the American Republic was a living proof that liberty could exist without lords, that dignity could belong to every soul, and that privilege — once the mark of birth — would yield to merit, virtue, and industry.

The origin of Coolidge’s conviction lay in the long struggle that shaped the American character. He was a man born from humble beginnings in Vermont, raised among simple, hardworking people who believed that freedom meant both responsibility and restraint. From this soil of modesty and self-reliance grew his belief that government should serve as a guardian of opportunity, not as a master over men. His presidency, coming in the years after the turmoil of war and the chaos of progressivism, sought to restore faith in the founding principles — that liberty is preserved not through control, but through the moral strength of a self-governing people. His statement reflects the inheritance of Jefferson, who wrote that all men are created equal, and the courage of Lincoln, who fought to make that equality real.

History offers us shining examples of this struggle between privilege and freedom. In France, before the Revolution, the nobility lived in opulence while the common people starved — their bloodlines securing wealth and status while the rest bore the burden of taxes and toil. The storming of the Bastille was not merely a rebellion against kings, but a rebellion against the very idea that some men are born to rule and others to obey. Yet even that revolution faltered, for without moral restraint, liberty gave way to terror. America’s founders, and later Coolidge himself, understood this balance: that the true abolition of privilege comes not from destruction, but from justice — from a government that treats all with equal law and demands from each an equal measure of duty.

Coolidge’s words remind us that freedom is not the same as chaos, and equality does not mean sameness. A just society does not suppress greatness — it ensures that greatness is open to all. Privilege, when earned by merit, is a blessing; but privilege guarded by law, by lineage, or by corruption, is an enemy to liberty. The American system, he believed, was designed as a machine of fairness, forever adjusting, forever striving toward a more perfect union. In this way, government becomes the servant of the people’s rights — a sentinel standing guard at the gates of justice.

Yet his message also carries a warning. Privilege is a cunning foe; it changes its face with the times. It may no longer wear the crown or cloak of nobility, but it can arise in the corridors of wealth, in the influence of power, in the quiet corruption of the few who bend the rules for their gain. Coolidge calls us to vigilance — to ensure that the promise of equality is not devoured by greed or apathy. When citizens grow careless, when they abandon civic duty or cease to demand honesty from their leaders, privilege returns, cloaked once more in the illusion of progress. Thus, the rights of the people must be renewed in every generation, for liberty once neglected is liberty soon lost.

So let this teaching be a lamp for those who walk in the halls of power and for those who walk in the fields of labor alike: the purpose of government is not to rule men, but to uplift them. Let every citizen remember that the strength of a republic lies not in privilege, but in participation; not in inheritance, but in integrity. And let each of us, in our own measure, be guardians of that sacred promise — that the government of the United States, and of any free nation, shall ever remain a device for the protection of the people’s rights, and a monument to the triumph of equality over entitlement.

Thus ends the teaching: privilege fades where virtue reigns, and justice endures where citizens remain vigilant. As Calvin Coolidge taught, freedom is not sustained by laws alone, but by the moral will of a people determined that no class — by birth or by power — shall stand above the common good.