Chapter 8

Then, too, there is a tradition of government, established by the fathers and modified by experience, which should be understood by the citizens. It recognizes certain rights as being reserved by the individual States, and others as belonging to the national government. The would-be citizen should be acquainted with this tradition so that he can determine how far it is desirable to adopt a new nationalism. He will have to pass judgment on the control of interstate commerce, national or State control of public lands, national divorce and liquor laws, national food inspection, and other practical subjects which may destroy the older balance of power so jealously guarded by our earlier statesmen. The citizen must make up his mind if this is desirable.

Newer political theories must also receive the citizens' attention. Many people believe that wealth created by the people can be enjoyed by the people only when they control the sources of supply and the means of production and distribution. The citizen should know whether these socialist tendencies should be favored or suppressed. There are others who believe that government is unnecessary, and that men and women can be happy and effective only when formal laws are abrogated. The citizen must determine whether he will allow those who hold such doctrines to express them; or whether he will suppress their meetings and forbid them to enter the country. These are but a few of the subjects concerning which the citizen must think, but they are typical and they may represent the rest.

In the last analysis, it is these judgments on political matters which govern a modern democracy, whatever the laws on the statute books may be, and whatever machinery of government may be established.

Not long since, I visited one of our States where the laws forbid any one to make or sell, as a beverage, any intoxicating liquors, within the State. At the leading hotel, in the large city where I stopped, beer and whiskey signs were displayed outside the entrance; and at an open bar, in the center of the hotel, four bartenders were dispensing all kinds of drinks, while at the tables of the hotel restaurant, liquors were openly bought and drunk. There are many indictments standing against this hotel, but in two test cases juries have refused to convict the proprietors. I am told it is the same in all of the principal hotels in the larger cities of this State. In this same State, the laws forbid the manufacture or sale of cigarettes, but they are openly displayed and sold in nearly all cigar stores. In the same State, whites and blacks live under the same laws, but blacks seldom vote; they do not use the parks, attend white people's meetings nor ride with the whites in public conveyances. And yet the city was quiet and orderly and I felt as safe in person and property as though the laws on the statute books, instead of the judgments in the public mind, were being obeyed. Since this form of public opinion is so powerful, it is well that it should be intelligent.

Granted, then, that the candidate for citizen honors is prepared to pass judgment on such matters as we have indicated, he must next be prepared to devise and control means to carry these judgments into effect. Here he approaches the problems of statescraft. He must have in his mind a general scheme of government, with a sense of legislative, judicial and executive functions. He must realize the value of a constitution, as a point of departure; and have a theory as to safe ways of modifying it. He must have fairly clear notions of legislation, and of the kinds of laws that are desirable and effective. He should know how far representative legislative bodies can be trusted to express the will of the people; and he should have studied the working of the initiative and the referendum. It is also desirable that he should know the theory of two chambers, and should have ideas as to how the members of the second chamber, if there is to be one, should be chosen.

The candidate for citizen honors should know something of the organization of the judicial branch of government. He should know something of the powers and duties of local magistrates, of county, State and national courts. He should recognize the difference between civil and criminal jurisdiction. He should have an opinion as to whether judges should be elected or appointed, and if appointed, who should select them. He should realize the grave dangers that surround a corrupt judiciary, and he should know the means by which a court is enabled to maintain its standing and authority.

So of the executive power, he should see its relation to the other powers, from the constable to the president. He should know the qualities required in a good executive and should be able to distinguish them in possible candidates. He should know that when the executive is lax the best of laws fall into abeyance, and he should know how such officers can be held up, through criticism by public opinion and penalties, to the fulfilment of duties. The recall should have been considered.

In the third place, the citizen should know how to select the right kind of people to carry his political judgments into effect. Possibly, under a representative form of government, this is the most necessary qualification for a good voter. Many of the matters with which modern government must deal are technical, and the citizen here, as in his private affairs, must rest on the judgment of those he employs. And yet, in general, he must know what he wants.

He must know the general laws that govern the organization of parties; and he should be somewhat acquainted with the psychology of crowds. He should know how candidates are selected under the convention or caucus system; he should have an independent judgment on direct primaries.

In selecting men, the citizen must be able to recognize general ability and intellectual fitness. It is at this point that modern democracies are most apt to go wrong. The standards by which we measure men and women are most imperfect; and we are prone to let one good or bad quality overshadow all others. Thus in an extended study on school children's attitude toward Queen Victoria in England, and toward President McKinley in America, made while these rulers were alive, we found that less than twenty per cent. mentioned any kind of political ability, nor did they often mention their general ability, nor their honesty. They admired them primarily because they were "good and kind." In other words the school children of these two lands approve their rulers because, in a vague general way, they like them.[43] The significance of the study lies in the fact that in all democracies a large number of the voters live on an intellectual plane represented by these school children.

[43] EARL BARNES, _Studies in Education_, Vol. II, pp. _5-80_. Philadelphia, 1902.

This conclusion is borne out by the judgment of Miss Jane Addams who, writing of foreign voters about Hull House, says: "The desire of the Italian and Polish and Hungarian voters in an American city to be represented by 'a good man' is not a whit less strenuous than that of the best native stock. Only their idea of the good man is somewhat different. He must be good according to their highest standard of goodness. He must be kind to the poor, not only in a general way, but with particular and unfailing attention to their every want and misfortune. Their joys he must brighten and their sorrows he must alleviate. In emergency, in catastrophe, in misunderstanding with employers and with the law, he must be their strong tower of help. Let him in all these things fill up their ideal of the 'good man' and he has their votes at his absolute disposal."[44]

[44] JANE ADDAMS, _Democracy_, p. 221. New York: The Macmillan Co., 1902.

To be a safe citizen one must be able to go beyond this kindly feeling and ask, Does the candidate know enough to do what I want done? Has he the honesty to resist the temptation to exploit me? Has he the leadership to command the best efforts of the subordinates in his department? Has he serious defects that may cause his failure? Is he an opportune man for the time and place?

This selection is made very difficult to-day by the misrepresentation of interested individuals and political parties; and especially by the reports in the press, which seek to discredit candidates they oppose, and to gloss over or deny defects in their chosen leaders. Thus the whole public atmosphere in the midst of a campaign is intended to confuse and bewilder the citizen who is honestly seeking the best candidate. Only ripened intelligence, experience with men and women, and ability to judge conflicting evidence, can enable the voter to select wisely.

In the last place, if the citizen knows what he wants, how to devise the governmental machinery to get it, and how to select the right men to see that it is done, he must register his desire by a vote; and then watch his servant carefully to see if he justifies the trust imposed in him. If he does not, then the citizen must criticise, threaten, and, if necessary, finally dismiss the unfaithful employee. Only one who can fulfil all these functions can be considered a desirable citizen from the point of view of a modern democracy. "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty."

And why should one desire to undertake this arduous responsibility? In the first place, because he wants the public work well done, as he understands it; and the only way to have it done in this manner is to attend to it himself. If he does not attend to it, some one else will do so; and if the intelligent citizens do not look after it then the public business will be exploited by individuals, or groups, in their own interest; and, before the citizen realizes what is happening, he will be deprived of that political liberty to secure which millions of men and women have struggled and suffered and even given their lives in the years which lie behind us.

And yet possibly the most important value of participation in political life to-day is the byproduct of continuous education which it gives. Modern political life has probably done more to train the men involved in it than have schools or churches. Business and industries alone might claim to be its rivals. In a despotism, all the events of public life are uncertain and seemingly accidental, depending as they do on the caprice of an individual. This discourages thought among the masses, paralyzes action, and breeds inertia and hopelessness. At best, it gives rise to periods of desperation and violence; at its worst, it gives us the hopeless masses of Mohammedan lands. In a free democracy, on the other hand, those who participate are in a continuous process of education, judging, selecting, willing, and always with regard to realities that affect daily life. Citizenship gives one a continuous laboratory course of training in the art of right living.

Nor can the full value of this continuous training be obtained by the onlooker, no matter how intelligent he may be. For full growth of mind and spirit one must participate; just as in athletics one must leave the spectator's bench and play the game if one would develop one's own powers. Participation means love, hate, devotion and sacrifice, and only when all these powers of the soul are brought into play, together with the judgment, is the character strengthened and life more abundantly obtained.

It must be evident to any one who has carefully followed this analysis that hardly any of the adult male voters in our modern democracies have the qualifications of good citizens. How, then, is good government achieved? It is not achieved. We have very bad government. Everywhere there is waste and inefficiency. Wealth is unjustly divided; great corporations seize public utilities and exploit them for private gain; enormous sums are squandered on unnecessary and dangerous battle-ships and soldiers; in building a single State Capitol, $3,500,000 was recently stolen, not only wasting public wealth, but corrupting public morals; in some parts of our land little children still drive the wheels of industry; and it is everywhere cheaper to scrap-heap men and women than machines; most of our cities are ugly and badly ruled; drunkenness, gambling and prostitution are common; life is not always secure from lawless attack; and the machinery of justice is clogged and moves slowly. Part of our intelligent adult population has no direct share in the government under which it must live. We have just such a government as we should expect where incompetent people decide such vast issues of life.

But, on the other hand, we are vastly better off than any great people has ever been before us. The mistakes are our own; they are made by us who participate in government, and we are learning from them. Those who exploit us may be called to account; and frequently they are caught and punished. Of those who stole the millions in Harrisburg, nearly a score have died disgraced, or are in prison or exile; and $1,300,000 has been returned to the treasury of the State. Even when those who betray us are not caught red-handed we learn to distrust and then to despise them. They pass their last years in exile, and when their statues are erected in our State Houses they are memorials of shame. Thus we learn the art of living, we who participate in political action.

The whole business of a modern democracy is to educate itself through doing, and we are all at school. If the bills are heavy, they are our bills; and we are steadily learning how to make them less. In the past no one learned. "The Bourbons learned nothing, and forgot nothing;" and the common people were too discouraged to think. It is on these lines that our modern democracies must be judged, not as efficient and economical political machines, but as educational institutions. Judged by this standard, we believe ourselves to be the triumph of the ages.

Nor can it be possible for people to enter political life fully prepared for its duties. Even when a young man approaches a business career we do not ask that he shall possess a knowledge of the business before beginning. If he has general preparation, and a desire to learn, he is admitted to share in its responsibilities, and then learns as he goes along. It is the same in political life; few young men at twenty-one or foreigners at the time of naturalization, have the knowledge indicated in the preceding pages. If they have general preparation and a desire to learn, we admit them to participation, and they learn through doing.

Years ago, while discussing education with an English statesman, he asked whom I considered the leaders of education in his country. Knowing his Tory instincts, I replied, "Bradlaugh, Annie Besant, William T. Stead, John Burns and Keir Hardie." He laughed contemptuously: "Why those people," he said, "are merely educating themselves in public." The statement was true and far-reaching; that is what we are all doing in our modern democracies; and that is at the same time our weakness and our glory.

VIII

Woman's Relation to Political Life

In discussing woman's right to vote it is well to remember that the right to rule, which is implicit in the right to vote, has always been limited by conditions of birth, residence, wealth, morality or intelligence. Universal manhood suffrage has never yet been achieved, and probably never will be. Under the best Greek conditions, it was only the free-born citizen, residing in his native city state, who voted. In both Greece and Rome, the suffrage was limited to classes defined by social position, wealth or military service. In our modern democracies there have always been limitations of birth, which might be overcome by naturalization; of residence, which could be overcome by living for a certain time in a locality; of wealth, which was supposed to insure a stake in the communal well-being; and of morals and intelligence, which at least shut out criminals, the insane and the imbeciles.

Thus the right to vote is not the same thing as the right to live; and even in a commonwealth founded on ideal justice only those having a stake in the community life, and possessing normal intelligence and morality, will be allowed to rule. In a word, equal suffrage is possible, while universal man or woman suffrage is not.

All through our colonial period women had a large influence in determining community questions, and in Massachusetts, under the old Providence Charter, they voted for all elective officers for nearly a hundred years. Here and there women--like Margaret Brent, of Maryland; Abigail Adams, of Massachusetts; or Mrs. Corbin, of Virginia--put forward their right to participate in the public life around them. But, in 1776, women were not voting, and the Federal Constitution left the matter of determining electoral rights to the several States. They all decided for male suffrage.

The initial impulse to secure suffrage for American women came from Europe. After the Revolution, Frances Wright, a young Scotchwoman, came to America to lecture and write, claiming equal political rights with men. In 1836, Ernestine L. Rose came from Poland and also advocated equal political rights. All the teachings of the American Revolution had favored the idea of human equality; and, as has been pointed out, when, with established peace after the War of 1812, women engaged in anti-slavery, temperance and allied movements, they were driven by the logic of events to demand the suffrage.

In 1848, the women of the country began to organize. Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott and Martha C. Wright called together at Seneca Falls, New York, the first convention in America to further equal suffrage. No permanent organization was founded, but in 1850 a convention was held in Salem, Massachusetts, and in 1852 a Woman's Rights Convention was called in Syracuse, New York, with delegates present from eight States and Canada. Miss Susan B. Anthony had meantime joined the movement; and from this time on conventions and appeals became common.

The Civil War distracted attention from all social and political issues but one. The Equal Rights Association turned its attention mainly to the rights of negroes; and in 1869 the National Woman's Suffrage Association was organized to work exclusively for woman's rights. Backed by such women as Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone and Julia Ward Howe, and aided by men like Henry Ward Beecher, the association became a national power. In 1890, the two organizations were united under the name of The National American Woman's Suffrage Association. This organization still leads the movement in America.[45]

[45] _The History of Woman Suffrage_, by ELIZABETH CADY STANTON, SUSAN B. ANTHONY, and IDA HUSTED HARPER, 4 vols. Rochester, N.Y.

In 1902, an international meeting was called in Washington; and in 1904 the International Suffrage Alliance was formed in Berlin with Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt as president. Thirteen nations are now affiliated with the Alliance; and the women of the world are highly organized to further equal suffrage.

Two generations of women have given themselves to this movement, and a third still faces it. To the first group belong those leaders we have already named: Emma Willard, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Julia Ward Howe, Susan B. Anthony and their associates. It was their problem to secure woman's control of her own body and property, some share in the direction of her children, and some opportunity to train her own mind and earn an independent living. These women bore the heat and burden of a conflict in which all the blind prejudices of a fixed régime were strongly massed, presenting few promising points of attack. It is small wonder that some of these leaders gained a reputation for being hard, dogmatic, aggressive, and sometimes careless of popular sensibilities. The first generation of reformers in any field must be made of stern stuff; and their beneficiaries are apt to forget the conditions that justified means no longer necessary.

The lives of these women could not be expected to fully illustrate the type of life they hoped to see their sisters living when opportunity was finally won. Only women who participated in this struggle could fully appreciate the splendid devotion of these lives to the service of a group many of whom, being personally comfortable, were insensible to the needs of less fortunate women; and were sometimes even willing to fight back any advanced ideas which might disturb their own comfort. The feeling within this group of leaders, and the failure of oncoming generations of American women to recognize the debt of obligation they owe to its efforts, was illustrated by an incident that came up in connection with the Third International Congress of Women which met in London in 1899. The session was opened in Westminster Town Hall, with seven hundred delegates present, representing the most thoughtful women of the world. Lady Aberdeen was in the chair, and Mrs. Creighton, wife of the late Bishop of London, was reading a paper. In the midst of deep attention, a door at the rear of the platform was gently opened, and Miss Susan B. Anthony stepped onto the stage. She had just arrived from America. Her strong figure was bent with the weight of years; her face was squared by the conflict and partial ostracism she had met; but her glance had lost none of its stern kindliness, and her bearing none of its indomitable courage. As she appeared, this most representative audience of women in the world sprang to its feet and burst into wild cheering. In vain did Lady Aberdeen rap for order and beg the audience to let Mrs. Creighton proceed. Not until Miss Anthony came to the front and urged the women to sit down was quiet restored. These women knew the price of a life which their champion had paid for their opportunities.

A few months after this the school children of the prosperous city of Rochester, N.Y., where Miss Anthony had been a leading citizen for many years, were asked to write school compositions in which they named the person they would most wish to be like. Over three thousand girls, in the elementary grades, wrote these papers, but not one chose Miss Anthony. This first generation of women reformers could not establish the type of womanhood for the modern world; they had not the leisure, nor the freedom, nor could they see all that lay in the future. But all the more, because their lives were hard, should they be held in grateful remembrance.

To the second generation of leaders belong women like Alice Freeman Palmer, Mary Sheldon Barnes and Charlotte Perkins Gilman. They came on the scene when the first campaign had been won; they could command their own bodies and property; college doors were swinging open where they could secure the training that should fit them for the struggle to win educational, industrial, social and political opportunity for all their sisters. They were still looked upon as blue-stockings and queer; they had often to serve as the butt of ridicule; but they had education, income, a certain degree of leisure, and a social recognition which, if grudging in some quarters, was all the more generous in others.