64TZ Z&-> ct<-i ^.^^ Q QUALITY THE PREVAILING ELEMENT IN REPRESENTATION BY WILLIAM B. WEEDEN. m QUALITY THE PREVAILING ELEMENT IN REPRESENTATION. BY WILLIAM B.'-"WEEDEN. From Proceedings of the American Antiquarian Society, at the Annual Meeting, October 24, 1S9L WORCESTER, MASS., U. S. A. PRESS OF CHARLES HAMILTON, 311 MAIN STREET. 1895. £ \ QUALITY THE PREVAILING ELEMENT IN REPRESENTATION. My purpose is to examine the history of New England, that we may trace out the origins of a principle which has affected our whole development in common with the United States. Perhaps the movement has been more marked in our district than elsewhere, and we may well look in these New England States for the clearest working of a political principle, which has constantly exercised profound influ- ence in shaping the destinies of America. Representation, the delegation of the sovereignty of citi- zens to a body of trustees or legislators, has been fully treated in various ways and by differing schools of thought. To my mind there should be discrimination in representa- tion itself. It has been the qualitative element in this sys- tem of delegated functions which has controlled the action and the resultant government of the voters, legislators and governors of New England. It is the essence, rather than the bulk, of the governed, which has manifested itself in the choice of officers, and which has finally issued forth in legislative and executive action. The meaning of the word is always most affected by its great opposite — quantity or bulk. In this study we need a closer definition. Locke, after explaining his doctrine of ideas, says, "whatever the mind perceives in itself, or is the immediate object of per- ception, thought or understanding, that I call idea ; and the power to produce any idea in our mind I call quality of the subject wherein that power is." The practical Blackstone gives a definition that we can handle and feel in its actual contact with common affairs. "The true reason of requiring any qualification with regard to property in voters, is to exclude such persons as are in so mean a situation that they are esteemed to have no will of their own." I would not draw out the differing tenden- cies of the word, but rather develop its sympathetic side. There is the tendency of like to like in all forms of repre- sentative government, wherever that government accords with the ways and wants of its constituent people. Society had a new opportunity, when the bands of Eng- lish adventurers planted themselves in these colonies. Europe had been working itself into nationalities run in the moulds laid by the Komans. A powerful municipal life had grown up within the larger political field of empire, and this life had been modified by the ecclesiastical func- tions of the Koman Church ; latterly, by the severe restraint of the Reformed Church, as it prevailed in Northern Europe. Over and through all, the great organizing power of feudal society carried its sinews of military domination, and firmly kept its nervous grasp on the land. All was changed in the new England, that transported the habits and customs, but not the substance and under- lying structure, of the old England. The land here was not occupied by peasants, alternately wielding a spade for their own bread and taxes, and a pike and spear for their count or earl. Excepting the hindrance of a few savage tribes, meadow and forest waited for the hand of the farmer, who should soon come to be a citizen. Earth, standing- room, the privilege of a grave, was no longer the basis of existence and the main-stay of the State. Man in his own right, a legalized social being but an individual master, stood forth, to control the soil spread out to receive the new institutions he was about to plant upon it. Again, these individuals and families were a picked lot. For the first two centuries the best of their kind came to America and the weakest dropped out by the way. Ex- ceptional races furnished their contingents, Even in New England there was an effective admixture of blood ; Ireland and Scotland, Germany and France, were mingled in the larger English stream. It will be understood, I do not mean that the best individuals came to America leaving the worst in Europe, or that those coming excelled the better sort of those remaining at home. Culture and social privilege — with their inevitable results — remained with the older institutions of Europe. I would simply note that a new and large opportunity was opened to these average citizens, who had been selected and were to be arranged by new social processes. This rupture of old social ties and new arrangement under changed conditions has led many observers to con- strue New England as a democratic society. Nothing could be more unlike the actual state of affairs. We need not refer to Cotton or Winthrop to show the antipathy of the most trusted leaders to democratic methods. The necessary drift of the new country carried the settlers away from democratic equality, and carried them, not into ranks and classes, but classified their energies for the final good of the whole community. Rhode Island, alone, by force of her peculiar circumstances, began with pure demo- cratic methods. Soon the American drift carried her into legislation and government, whose general political effect can hardly be distinguished from the more aristocratic hierarchical development of Massachusetts and Connecticut. At the very first, whether at Plymouth, Salem, and Bos- ton, or New Haven, Connecticut, and Providence, the public business got under way as it could, and government adapted itself to the varying circumstances of these settlements. It is generally agreed that representation in Massachusetts was fairly instituted in about three years after the founding of the Bay plantations. 1 And this representation worked 1 Representation and Suffrage in Mass. Haynes, 12 Hopkins, University Studies, VIII. 14. I have freely used this careful essay. 6 itself out on the lines I have briefly indicated. The social customs, the ingrained political ideas, the resulting institu- tions of Englishmen, took root in a new soil and developed rapidly into a new line of institutions, which ultimately came to be the organs of a new State. It was the quality and essential nature of these people which directed the lines of this development and gave final unity to different com- munities. We gain little by too minute classification of these historic incidents according to the terms of Greek, Roman or English experience. The influence of a corpora- tion issuing from the Crown of England and planting itself on a wide territory, that influence must make itself felt, even when it was not strictly corporeal. 1 Yet it was not a mere corporation, nor was that corporate body succeeded by an oligarchy. To comprehend this matter let us glance at some criti- cism of unfriendly observers. Thomas Morton gives us his notion of John Endicott. "This man thinking none so worthy as himself, took upon him infinitely : and made warrants in his own name ... To these articles every Planter, old and new, must sign, or be expelled. . . . That in all causes, as well Ecclesiastical as Politicall we should follow the rule of God's words . . . for the construction of the words would be made by them of the Separation to serve their owne turnes." 2 This might be Morton's idea of the "free handling" of Scripture, which two centuries of experience may have somewhat justified. Not so, honest John Endicott in his day and generation. He wrote to Bradford, "God's people are all marked with one and the same mark and sealed with one and the same seal, and have for the main, one and the same heart, guided by one 1 See Genesis of the Massachusetts Towns, Proceedings Mass. Hist. Soc, Jan., 1892, where the whole subject is discussed by Adams, Goodell, Chamberlain and Channing. 2 New English Canaan. Book III., Chap. XXI. and the same spirit of truth ; and where this is there can be no discord." 1 This was admirable in the spirit and not vexatious for the body, until it came to be rendered politi- cally and to affect the every-day business of mankind. Then Edward Johnson, "a very devout and explicit Puri- tan," shows us the proper method of governing a State. He said, in 1637, that his brethren "also hate every false way, not that they would compel men to believe by the power of the Sword, but to endeavor all to answer their profession ; whether in Church Covenant or otherwise, by knowing they bare not the Sword in vaine." 2 It is true that Bradford and Winthrop were larger and more in accord with the type of the colonial Massachusetts which was to come. But in that day the average planter and Puritan was very like Endicott and Johnson. It was not because John Endicott wielded the power of a corpora- tion, deriving from the Crown, nor that Edward Johnson could move a church gathering and moderate a town meet- ing according to his own will, that these worthies could set up what Thomas Morton conceived to be a tyranny. ' These men were of the same quality as those they repre- sented. All or nearly all the men who obtained a foothold in Massachusetts and Connecticut believed in the same way, that they were sealed with the great seal of the Almighty. Occasionally, one like Wheelwright, Anne Hutchinson or Roger Williams might hold a signet which varied by a line or a shadow from the established mark. He might get out. His ways were not God's ways, as conceived by the average Puritan, and there was no occa- sion that the fold of the Puritan lambs should be troubled by these ungodly shepherds. The lambs desired to be let alone. Not even Winthrop, with his large benevolence 1 Morton's New England's Memorial, 5th ed., p. 143. 2 Wonder Working Providence, p. 107. and his reason bred in the true insight of the State, could resist this impelling flood of public sentiment. His pro- found sorrow in consequence was most pathetic. Cotton was not a bad nor ignorant man, but he could not lift him- self a hand's breadth above the quality of the Johnsons, .who bore not the sword or the mace of banishment in vain. It was the merit of Roger Williams that, after he had clashed signets for a time with the men of the Bay and of Plymouth, he perceived that the impressions became some- what blurred and not available for expression and use in constable's warrants and decrees of banishment. If Endi- cott's one spirit of truth was comprehended in any one mark, which was a mechanism, then it was the best busi- ness of man to hold fast to that mechanism. But Williams discovered, after much travail of spirit, that Johnson's sword might be sheathed, for once, in matters ecclesiastical. Hence the compact made at Providence, "we subject our- selves in active or passive obedience . . . only in civil things." 1 It was an exception of tremendous consequence, too large to be contained in the commonwealth that gave it birth and afforded the first practical exposition of relig- ious liberty. It was the merit of Thomas Hooker, that while he came far short of Roger Williams in the large perception of a complete division between "civil things" and things eccle- siastical, he organized Connecticut on a basis which enabled it to work a political government, modified by its ecclesi- astical connections, for nearly two centuries without sub- stantial changes. Rhode Island, the smallest of principali- ties, was developed into a State on religious liberty, pure and simple. This was a great object lesson for the whole world, both Protestant and Catholic. Whether a larger community and combination of commonwealths, like New 1 Arnold, History of Rhode Island, I., 100. England, could have been worked together on the same basis of principle we shall never know ; for it was not tried in that day. Hooker did formulate the Puritan principle into a solid form of law, which could be administered and which made a most prosperous and homogeneous com- munity. That is, the men whom Hooker animated and whom he represented did this work. Hooker has been ex- alted as the father of American democracy. This has been sufficiently refuted. 1 He did prune down the theocratic rhapsody of the Puritans into some definite form, which the Connecticut farmers administered admirably, to bring out the social life and prosperity which they wanted. The written constitution of Connecticut did not differ much in essence from the theocratic ideas which underlay the practical administration of Massachusetts Bay, and which interpreted the charter as it was applied to the neces- sary business of the incipient State. But we shall see that this constitution was interpreted by a group of statesmen whose quality was exactly like that of their constituents and whose action was therefore harmonious. Meanwhile Massachusetts was agitated and torn by parties, which in time worked out a political evolution of another sort. The men of Connecticut said, " . . .a people gathered together, the word of God requires that to maintain the peace and union of such a people, there should be an orderly and decent government established according to God, to order and dispose of the affairs of the people at all seasons as occasion shall require ; do therefore associate and conjoine ourselves to be as one public Estate or Commonwealth." 2 Connecticut did not, like Massachusetts, require freemen to be church members, yet the political result was the same. "Town government and church government were i See Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc., Jan., 1890. Doyle, Puritan Colonies, I., 158. '* Hinton's Antiquities, p. 20. 10 but the two sides of the same medal, and the same persons took part in both." 1 Let us look into Hooker's "Survey of the Surame of Church-Discipline," published in its pres- ent form in 1648, after his death. "Men sustain a double relation. As members of the commonwealth they have civil weapons, and in a civil way of righteousnesse, they may, and should use them. But as members of a Church, their weapons are spirituall, and the work is spirituall, the cen- sures of the Church are spirituall, and reach the souls and consciences of men." 2 He did not hold and is careful to guard himself from religious toleration. 3 He further elabo- rates the idea of separation between Church and State. "iVb civil rule can properly convey over an Ecclesiasticall right. The rules are in specie distinct, and their works and ends also, and therefore cannot be confounded But the taking up an abode or dwelling in such a place or precincts is by the rule of policy and civ ility Ergo, This can give him no Ecclesiasticall right to Church-fellow- ship." 4 Here is a dim recognition of the difference there ought to be between spiritual and temporal things in the office of government. We may now cite a statement which has been latterly brought out or translated from an abstract of a famous ser- mon preached by Hooker in 1638, and which is justly sup- posed to have influenced the formation and direction of the constitution of Connecticut. "The choice of public magis- trates belongs unto the people, by God's own allowance. . . . The privilege of election, which belongs to the people, therefore must not be exercised according to their humors, but according to the blessed will and law of God." 5 1 Johnson's Connecticut, pp. 59, 220. 2 A Survey of the Summe of Church-Discipline, London, 1648, p. 4. s Ibid., p. 13. 4 Ibid., p. 13. 6 Cited by Palfrey, History of New England, I., 536 n. 11 Now, if we survey the whole substance of Hooker's doc- trine, as formulated by himself, we easily perceive that he was forging out a practical method of theocratic govern- ment, rather than stating any doctrine of political equality administered by a large majority of the people, as we under- stand democracy in its modern sense. Another ray of light on the political ideas of Connecticut is reflected from a sermon preached to the soldiers going out to crush the Pequots. This is attributed to Hooker; whether the words were spoken by him or not, they were out of the heart of his system. "Every common soldier among you is now installed a magistrate ; then show your- selves men of courage ; I would not draw low the height of your enemies' hatred against you and so debase your valour." An essentially Puritan idea, to elevate a man by making him into a representative and trusted agent. And nothing better illustrates the principle I am seeking in the historic record, that quality animated the method of the Puritan representation. Another and a greater man towers above these men who made New England. We cannot overlook John Winthrop in the most hasty survey of the beginnings of our history. His work is so well known and his record of himself is so complete that we need not dwell upon his part in the drama, further than to cite, "the best part of a community is always the least, and of that least part the wiser are still less." 1 Or his more general affirmation, "democracy is among most civil nations accounted the meanest and worst of all forms of government." Greater than any expressed thoughts of Winthrop was his masterly action. States are never conceived in the closet, nor made upon paper. He did the right thing at the right time and enlarged the nar- rowing tendencies of his sanctimonious brethren, whenever 1 Winthrop, History of New England, II., 428. 12 and however they moved forward in common action and together. Representation should finally deal with the body person- ated and the delegates must stand for the conviction and possible action of those who put power into the hands of representatives. Who were the men who stood behind these leaders, who followed them to achieve these new methods of government, to attain to new forms of political and social life? The charter of King Charles was suc- ceeded by the freemen of the towns of Massachusetts Bay. The General Court intervened, whether as mother or mid- wife, has occasioned much learned discussion. 1 If we study the process at any point we may not be absolutely sure whether we are dissecting the chicken or the egg, but the principle of representation I have stated, is never absent. In 1633 these freemen, in the most solemn and formal man- ner, subscribed to this oath: "Moreover when I shall be called to give my voice touching any such matter of this state, wherein freemen are to deal, I will give my vote and suffrage as I shall judge in mine own conscience may best conduce and tend to the public weal of the body, with- out respect of persons, or favor of any man." 2 These heroes had not arrived at Roger Williams's conception, that the consciences of others should have equal rights and full liberty in matters of conscience, but how fully they com- prehended themselves as loyal parts and duteous repre- sentatives of the State. There had been an oath previously taken in 1631. Palfrey 3 estimates that of the 118 freemen who took the oath at that time, from one-half to three- quarters of the number were Church members. In 1633 the General Court enacted the restriction, "no man shall 1 See G-eoesis of the Massachusetts Towns, Adams and others. 2 Mass. Col. Rec, I., 117. BVol.I.,348. 13 be admitted to the freedom of this body politic, but such as are members of some of the churches within the limits of the same." 1 Apologists 2 have referred this action to an especial desire to propitiate Puritan purists in England. Cotton wrote to Lord Say and Sele and others "for the liberties of the freemen of this commonwealth are such as require men of faithful integrity to God and the State." But such petty criticism fails to grasp the significance of the whole movement in the colony of the Bay. These restrictions were in the line of development prescribed by the opinions of Endicott, Edward Johnson, Wilson and the rest. Where men are marked with "God's mark" there can be no discord. Of course the practical effect was, as it must be, notwithstanding Hooker's distinctions above cited, 3 to make the church door a way of political prefer- ment. But the labels were scriptural and doctrinal, as ecclesiasticism always depends much on labels. Next to the freemen 4 in political and legal privilege came the inhab- itants. These were not simply dwellers in the place, they were "all male adults, not admitted freemen of the colony on one hand, nor servants on the other, who by general laws or by special town acts were allowed to become permanent residents of the town." 5 The restric- tions on persons not having the freemen's privilege were somewhat relieved as early as 1641, when "every man, i Mass. Col. Rec, I., 87. 2 Palfrey, History of New England, I., 345. 3 Ante, p. 10. 4 At no period were the freemen any considerable proportion of the popula- tion. In 1679 small towns of twenty freemen were entitled to the regular delegation of two deputies to the General Court. Boston had a population which, in 1075, had been estimated at 4,000. She wished for a larger representa- tion and remonstrated against the inequality of the parity, " sball 20 freemen have equal privileges with our great town which consists of near twenty times twenty freemen?"— (Ernst, Constitutional History of Boston, p. 17.) 5 Hopkins, VII., 28. Haynes here accepts Chamberlain's definition. Genesis of the Mass. Towns, p. 72. See also Ibid., Adams, p. 12. Goodell, p. 44. 14 whether inhabitant or foreigner, free or not free," was per- mitted by statute to come to "any court, council or town meeting" and urge his motion or complaint. In 1644, enlargement of privilege to non-church members was for- mally refused. 1 Clearly, the freemen of Massachusetts were a privileged body, selected, as I have shown, by qualitative customs, rather than by a strict rule of suffrage, to represent the whole body of citizens, as we should call the people of the colony. These privileges of the "ins" were constantly vexing the "outs," as occasionally appears in the side lights of history. Winthrop notes, in 1644, that certain decrees were not published, concerning a difference between the governor and council and the magistrates, because "the non-members would certainly take part with the magistrates, and this would make us and our cause, though never so just, obnoxious to the common sort of freemen." 2 Lechford's adverse opinion was as follows: "The most of the persons at New England are not admitted of their church, and therefore are not freemen ; and when they come to be tried there, be it for life or limb, name or estate, or whatsoever, they must be tried and judged too by those of the church who are in a sort their adversaries." This whole system of suffrage and representation was very strong and based on the solid convictions of the people. We perceive this in the fact that all the movements for enlarging political privilege yielded little until 1681. 3 Then town inhabitants who had served worthily in local offices were admitted to be freemen. The privilege of property counted very little as against the restrictions of a non-free- man. All the towns guarded jealously the corporate hold upon the land. No one could sell his estate without the i Winthrop, History of New England, II., 160. 2 Winthrop, History of New England, II., 171, and Savages note. 312 Hopkins, VIII., 53, 58, 59. 15 consent of the selectmen or town meeting. We should not construe this — as many writers have done 1 — too ex- clusively from the point of view prescribed by religious development. It was not so much orthodoxy, as every doxy, that contributed to build up and strengthen the politi- cal system of Massachusetts Bay. Massachusetts made her people subject to freemen who were Church members. The outs in the early days were constantly contending against these barriers, and often suffered great hardships. Connecticut, with less technical restriction, carried her policy along an even road, prescribed by the concurring opinions of her freemen. Khode Island, having entirely abolished her religious restrictions, developed her polity on lines very similar to the purely political development of Massachusetts and Connecticut. We have noted the agree- ment subscribed in Providence, "only in civil things." In 163| freemen were admitted at Newport, "none but by consent of the body." 2 In 16|$ there was a general as- sembly of the freemen of the Plantations. Those who could not attend, sent their sealed proxies (for election of officers) to the judge. In 1647 a majority of the freemen of the colony were present at the General Assembly, when a compulsory quorum of forty was established. This is re- garded as the beginning of a representative system. 3 After- wards freemen of the towns were always made freemen of the colony on request to the General Assembly. In 1655, 4 after nearly a score of years, and customs were well estab- lished, "not every resident was a legal inhabitant." In most cases there was an orderly development of citizens in the modern sense. First a settler, then an inhabitant with rights to common lands, he was eligible to jury duty and to hold the lesser town offices ; if satisfactory he was then propounded to be a freeman. At first the freemen were 1 See Doyle, Puritan Colonies, I., 134. 2 Arnold, History of Rhode Island, I., 127. 3 Ibid., p. 202. * Ibid., p. 256. 16 all owners of land. A few years later others were admitted who held the franchise without land. The famous restric- tion on suffrage was not imposed until 172f . 1 This required a freehold qualification of £100, or an income of £2 from real estate ; the eldest son of a freeholder could also vote. The slightest survey shows that in all the colonies there was a general restriction of suffrage and representation. The cause is plain, in that the great unthinking majority determined to be represented by those leaders whose quality accorded with their own political purposes. Massachusetts and Connecticut conceived the Church to be the only means of reaching this end. When Rhode Island cast off this means of primary organization she came at last to the free- holder and the land, as her basis and stay of society, in place of an organization of saints in the Church. In either case, democracy alone could not hold the field. The voice of the people needed some collateral organized system to give stability to the progress of the State. The formal transfer of the powers of the corporation under the Charter of Massachusetts did not occur until the year 1634. A great movement was in process — and the proceedings were as mysterious, so far as records go, as if they had occurred in Athens — this movement brought together deputies of the towns. These deputies reenforced the more aristo- cratic assistants or governor's council, and they formed the rude basis of a popular House of Representatives. In some way, no one knows by what authority, the depu- ties assembled. With the crude notions of popular sov- ereignty always prevailing, whether the expositors be dem- ocrats or anarchists, these law-makers looked about them to find out on what ground they stood. According to Winthrop 2 they "desired a sight of the patent." After they found that their only constituted authority required that all laws should be made by the General Court, they i Arnold, History of Rhode Island, II., 77. 2 yol. i. 5 153, 17 took counsel with the Governor. The sagacious statesman, with his usual moderation, explained that the ultimate pur- pose of the Charter undoubtedly intended a representative body of legislators, who should act for the freemen, whose increasing and inevitable numbers must swamp any com- mon meeting. " A select body to intend that work " would in time be necessary, but now, we are not "furnished with a sufficient number of men qualified for such a busi- ness, neither could the commonwealth bear the loss of time of so many as must attend it." There was no spirit of oligarchy here ; it was the old aristocratic notion of rulers and superiors : leave us to do your business and we will do better than you can do for yourselves. Like all sensible executives, Winthrop and the General Court ap- pointed a committee to examine and report, fondly trusting that it would become annual and thus relieve the popular pressure. But the freemen, in town meetings assembled, could not be quieted by such aristocratic taffy, however skilfully administered. Like the child who vaults from the nursery stool to a seat at the family table, or the un- bidden guest who is able to make himself welcome, three deputies from each of eight towns appeared at the next General Court. The other eight plantations of the colony, beins: distant and feeble, did not trouble themselves with the bother about popular or constitutional rights. What- ever prescriptive rights were lacking, the representatives of the freemen proceeded to make rights which should answer their purposes. These purposes had now become political, having worked themselves free of economic re- striction, and having moved out from direct ecclesiastical control. By the Charter only the Governor with six assist- ants could admit freemen to the privileges of the Colony. Now the representatives prescribed positively that only the General Court could admit freemen, or appoint officers, civil and military, or raise money, or dispose of lands. For the first time Winthrop was passed over in electing 2 18 the Governor. Yet he served under Dudley in the second place just as cheerfully. These results show the invincible power of the popular movement, and especially in that it absorbed for the moment the great personality of Winthrop. That the whole arrangement was natural and that Win- throp speedily rose to the enlarged opportunity, is shown by the fact that he soon took the lead again, in the precedence which his abilities and character gave him. Having considered the people in their assemblies and towns, we should turn to those remarkable organs of gov- ernment which articulated between the towns and the com- mon business of living. The town councils, selectmen, town-representatives sometimes called, were out of the very loins of the freemen. Whatever the King's Charter or the ecclesiastical functions of the Church might prescribe, in the selected councils of the towns, the New Englander had his own deputies under his own hand. The selectmen numbered from three to thirteen, 1 chosen by the town to order prudential affairs. In Connecticut 2 and Rhode Island 3 they had the probate of wills and administration of estates. In Massachusetts probate was conducted by the County Court. 4 To give the multifarious offices and duties 5 of these minor executives and small legislatures in all the towns of New England, would fill out more than this hour. We are more concerned with the manner of the doing than with the acts done. Dorchester may well be considered a typical town, for on this community John White set his mark, and there was no more potent influence in shaping the pioneers of* New England. These solid Puritans, in 1645, "laid 1o heart the disorders that too often fall out among us and not the least was seldomest in our town meetings, . . . being heartily sorry for and ashamed of the 1 Howard, Local Con. History, p. 75. 2 Ibid., p. 76. 3 Arnold, History of Rhode Island, L, 209, 369. 4 Howard, p. 331. 5 Ibid., see pp. 79- 19 premises." 1 They prescribe the election of " seven or so many of our most grave, moderate and prudent brethren as shall then be thought meet for the managing of the pru- dential affairs of the town for that year." The town goes on to arrange carefully for the conduct of business in the town meeting. " When the company is assembled as afore- said it is ordered that all men shall attend unto what is propounded by the seven men and thereunto afford their best help as shall be required in due order avoiding all janglings by two or three in several companies as also to speak unorderly or unseasonably. ... in case the seven men shall refuse to propound any man's motion the party shall after some competent times of patience and forbearance have liberty to propound his own cause for hearing at some meeting provided all disturbance and confusion be avoided." 2 It was also ordered that no man should leave the town meeting without "due notice unto the moderator and de- claring such occasion as shall be approved by the seven men" upon pain " of twelve pence." All the towns were as liberal with their selectmen as Weymouth, which enacted in 1651 : "Wee willingly grant they shall have their Dyn- ners uppon the towns charge when they meete about the Towns affaires." 3 Boston paid £2.18.5 for "diet for the selectmen in 1641." This system of deputing the sub- stance of the public business to the selectmen, worked easily and completely, as it carried out the wishes of the freemen, and through them met the desires of the governed. There was a qualifying action on the part of the prudential or selected body, which screened off and then adapted the public business to the exigencies of town meetings and of circumstance. One proof of this may be inferred from the history of the largest town of all, Boston. Here the origi- nal course of proceeding was followed until 1702, when i Genesis of the Massachusetts Towns, p. 13. The records are largely cited by Adams. 2 Genesis of the Massachusetts Towns, p. 16. 3 Ibid., p. 23. 20 the business of town meetings was confined to matters "especially exprest in the Warrant." 1 In 1715 the Prov- ince 52 made a general law to the same effect. So long and so closely did the selectmen and town meeting move in accord with the freemen that no general restraint was needed through a notice in the warrant. We shall gain insight into the practical ways of developing government, especially in Massachusetts, by a glance at the methods of nominating assistants. These were under the Charter, the governor's council ; they were to be the upper house or future senate, and as the name indicates they were intended for a constituent part of the executive and became a legis- lative body in the inevitable development of New England. The nomination of these assistants was a process, wherein the qualifying or selecting methods must be well adjusted, or there could not have been harmony in the clumsy, though simple, mechanism of the period. As early as 1640 there began to be regulation of the nominations. After several expedients, they adopted in 1644 a plan, 3 retained, with slight modifications, until the royal government overrode all such administration. It was thoroughly worked out. In town meeting each freeman first voted for any nominee that he pleased, a committee carried these votes sealed to the county town. These delegates then chose one or two, called "shire selectmen," to cany the sealed votes to Bos- ton. With much formality the central convention reported to the selectmen of the various towns the names of seven assistants who had received the highest number of nominat- ing votes. The selectmen announced these names, and these only were voted for at the regular election of assist- ants. Ballots and proxies were used in elections of magis- trates ; Indian beans — white for election, black for blanks — were formally substituted for the scarce paper in casting 1 8 Bos. Eec, 17, 21. 2p rov . Laws, II., 30, 3 Howard, Local Con. History, p. 354. 21 ballots. In 1(580 Indian corn was adopted instead of beans. These are homely reminders of the constant process of evolution ; by which representative government was root- ing itself in the soil of New England. There seemed to be an inevitable development of the freeman, the town, and the legislature, out of the common loins of the people. Many expedients were tried or sug- gested, then sloughed off as unnecessary for these three institutions, which became the trinal support of the State. For example, in 1644 the General Court of Massachusetts moved to substitute county representation for the direct delegation of the towns. They recited the inconveniences and, "furth r forseeing y* as towns increase y° numb r wilbe still augmented," they proposed that twenty deputies be chosen by the freemen of the various shires : six in Suffolk, six in Middlesex, and eight in Essex and Norfolk jointly. 1 The towns declined this easy method of compressing their privileges ; power was no longer moving downward from the chartered court, it was ascending from the people. One of the curious restrictions made by the first genera- tion was in the exclusion of practising lawyers from the deputies or lower house of the General Court. To be exact it was "any person who is a usual and common attorney." 2 While there was a certain propriety or scruple of decorum in this, inasmuch as the General Court was a court of appeal, when lawyers might be concerned in the cases coming there, we may well doubt if such was the main motive. When we consider Lechford's sorry experience, when he was the only regular lawyer and could not maintain himself at Boston, there appears to be a deeper reason for the exclusion. The upper house or assistants was a more aristocratic and naturally exclusive body than the house of deputies. The assistants were better placed, better educa- ted, generally enjoyed longer terms of office, and had 1 Howard, Local Cou. History, p. 355. 2 Mass. Col. Rec, IV., Pt. II., p. 87. 22 many men of legal training among them. Among the deputies the average freeman found himself most at home and he deliberately excluded working lawyers, when their experience and information would have been certainly use- ful. This was the laic instinct in the New Englander. It manifested itself quite as often in mere prejudice as in the matured independence of the layman. He would have liked to exercise the same power and make himself his own priest in the Church, if he could, but he did not quite dare to tackle the unseen world of spirits. And this is no mere figure of speech, when transported to the life of the seven- teenth century. There were actual devils all about and a restless Providence over all, who might oppress or neglect the unwary sinner. The Puritan must have a minister, armed in all the panoply scripture and ecclesiasticism could afford, to breast the attacks of Belial and Satan, to soothe a Jehovah whose methods were rather Satanic. But on this firm earth the freeman was sufficient unto himself. He could deal with matter, with the earth and earthly things, to his own satisfaction. Law he could make, and precedent he despised, if it did not run accord- ing to the accordant notion of the saints marked with Endicott's one seal. Therefore he fondly hoped to dis- pense with the trained exponents of human law, and to make his own codes, out of his own practical hardy sense and the crude inspirations of a virtuous people. We might cite numerous illustrations from colonial history to support the positions taken in the beginning. They would all tend in the same direction. In the whole course of colonial political life we find the same quali- tative selection and work, and bringing out the force of the people for the immediate business in hand. We shall gain more insight into the matter if we pass to one of the greatest instances of qualitative representation shown in history. When the awful chasm yawned between the people of 23 America and the ministers of George III., who were seek- ing to enforce his royal prerogative ; the people, whether freemen or not, whether church members, landholders or not, looked about for a new means and manifestation of government. The old machinery of government could not serve in revolution, could not destroy itself. Some medium was imperative that should embody the new civic force of the people, and put its faith in an energy which could not be exercised through the King's representatives. This was far from independence. That great word was not even whispered. The people were subjects and, feeling so, they were casting about for new organs of political expression, new legislators and governors, who should bring them in some vague way nearer their master, the King. At least this was the form of the movement, though its spirit soon carried the movers beyond their original purpose. Accordingly, throughout the colonies, there were formed local committees of " Safety, inspection and correspond- ence." Poor Hutchinson, born in an unfortunate period, too wise for his time, too scrupulous for revolution, saw the bearing of these committees, which underrun the ground of sovereignty itself. He condemned these committees as "not warranted by the constitution," and declared the doc- trines set forth by the towns "dangerous." The highest quality of the New World went to the making of these committees. Francis Dana, in writing to Elbridge Gerry, called them "the corner stone of our revolution or new empire." By 1774 they had virtually ceased to be sub- jects, for Warren voiced their high purpose in these noble words, "when liberty is the prize, who would shun the warfare, who would stoop to waste a coward thought -on life?" The popular character and the representative essence of these committees is fully revealed in the resolutions which accompanied the contributions from all New England to the sufferers at Boston, through the Port Act in 1774. New 24 Hampshire wrote, the contributions "are from the industri- ous yeomanry ... a small part of what we are in duty bound to communicate (give) to those truly noble and patriotic advocates of American freedom who are bravely standing in the gap between us and slavery, defending the common interests of a whole continent, and gloriously struggling in the cause of liberty." x Connecticut called her remittance "the first payment of a large debt we owe you." 2 Rhode Island looked to the future in the common obligation of all the people. "Due care will be taken in this town to afford you that relief your circumstances may require and our abilities may afford." 3 Words may or may not stand for things, as results will certainly indicate. But in money and the tax, government always touches the true nerve-currents of political life. A tax voluntarily rendered is a certain touch-stone of repre- sentation. Samuel Adams, Warren and the rest had struck home to the hearts of the people. It was through the essential quality of these leaders, drawing from the like elements in their constituency, that a new representation was established, and that Mr. Dana's new empire came into being. A whole people cannot call forth such a tre- mendous evolution in government as revolution creates. It proceeds from leaders. A significant illustration in the opposite direction is afforded by the destruction of slavery in the United States. Mr. George P. Marsh told me: "Emancipation was the first movement ever initiated by the people of the United States." Some general observations are consequent to this study and force themselves upon the mind. We may well leave particular history at the Revolution, and consider the prin- ciples which are involved in this historical development. Before fully defining representation we must glance at sovereignty. It is a difficult term. One may say, if the *4 Mass. Hist. Col., IV.. p. 145. 2 Ibid., p. 117. s Ibid., p. 192. 25 people are sovereign, and if each member of the people has personal rights — and this was demonstrated in the American Revolution, in spite of all chartered prerogative and constitutions — if this be the case, then each man is an autocrat and the people are absolute. But wait ! Absolute power, like the divine right of Kings, has become more of a historic figment than a political substance. The royal prerogative in England 1 has been silently disintegrated like an iceberg in its surrounding waters. Absolute power, irrespective of constitutional and legitimate limitations, has become a thing of the past. There have been curious illus- trations of the failing power of this absolute will, whether put forth by haughty Czar or homely freeman. Rhode Island, once an almost pure democracy administered by a social aristocracy, had a constitutional revolution and a rebellion verging upon bloodshed in 1842. In the dis- cussions of the times, a fiery suffrage orator would often exclaim, "if soverinity don't reside in the people, where the does it reside?" So complex was a representa- tive government to an ignorant freeman. We may hope that absolute power — as a working force — has ceased to be in civilized States. The people are sovereign, but we reach the people not through persons exercising personal rights, but through institutions embody- ing the rights of all. Individual wills are subject to the great two-fold will of the people. A mass may vote an absolute decree. Before it can be executed, through the many checks and balances of the State, the corrective judgment of the whole comes to regulate the will even of the larger part of the great voting mass. When the whole State has acted through these time-hallowed organs, we i It has been well said of the limitations of sovereignty in England ..." the people may do what they like with their own. But no such doctrines are known to English law. In that noble system the law of political conditions spontaneously finds its appropriate place. . . . Every power aud every privilege, to whomsoever it belongs, is given by the law, is exercised in conformity with the law, and by the law may be either extended or extinguished."— Hearn, The Government of England, p. 3. 26 have the strange but delightful paradox of a people obey- ing itself, without the absolute power of ruling itself. A mystic essence, hard to define, has gathered about the phrase, "sovereignty of the people." Patriots and dema- gogues alike have used it, to urge the purpose of the moment. This is no defined principle, it is a popular fetich, which does not concern us. To get at sovereignty — as it actually works in constitutional States — we must con- sider representation in our land. Representation gives to electors in the community the right directly "to depute persons in whom they have con- fidence and trust, to represent them in a legislative body, and to give in advance their sanction to the laws they may enact." 1 Custom and long habits of definition have influ- enced our minds so thoroughly that we almost invariably treat the constitution of society as either aristocratic or democratic in a political sense. This political signification does not apply to American experience, and we must get rid of it. "The politics of democracy considers the equality of men the fundamental law of nature, the supreme law of the State. The politics of aristocracy, on the contrary, finds the basis of all political order in the natural differences between men." This fine explanation might satisfy a Greek or French mind ; it would not explain or comprehend the colonial ex- perience I have described, or we may add, the present experience of a western territory or State. The citizen of an English colony or of the United States went to his politi- cal task, partly natural, as the French would say, and partly the creature of the chain of circumstances engaging him. In other words, person and institution combined in the act of that freeman and representative who votes in the first movement toward erecting a State. For example, an indentured servant comes over in a colonial vessel, perhaps bound for his passage money. In a very short time, this i Lewis, Use and Abuse of Political Terms, pp. 128-142. 27 figuratively equal, but politically unfree creature, acquired land and voted alongside Winthrop in Massachusetts or Lord Fairfax in Virginia. It is nonsense to say that any natural equality or natural difference affected this man politically, in one way or another. The individual man had a new opportunity in the new countries, which were being distributed, not according to feudal service or eccle- siastical obligation, but on a new basis and by a political system. He seized this opportunity to become a citizen. Aristocratic difference and democratic freedom met in the person and in the political action of this American land- holder. Land and its contingent institutions afford the most striking illustrations of this evolution, but the same social principles prevail throughout American society. The citizens — having been elected or selected, as it were, from the existing society — the technical electorate proceed to constitute the higher organs of government ; the legisla- ture, the executive and the judiciary. The legislature chiefly concerns us at this moment. It is essentially a higher assembly than the old folk-mote or any assembly of the Germanic races. The representation embodied in the electorate, clothes its members with a dignity derived from the whole body of the people. The process of representa- tion might vary and be locally different. Towns and counties, large and small States, must give different models and forms of representation, but they all work from similar principles and achieve homogeneous results. All the forms include and exemplify the following principles : I. Representation is based on persons. II. Representation is based on a majority. III. Representation makes a majority effective, rather through qualitative than quantitative action. The power of principles and not the mere weight of members controls the State. I. The suffrage and the representation of the voter here has 28 potentially rested on persons from the beginning. The principle holds, though occasional facts varied from this standard. Massachusetts had a partial ecclesiastical repre- sentation, as we have seen. South Carolina had a compli- cated method of increasing every ten years the proportional representation of her wealthy southern districts, as against the more populous uorthern districts, by allowing more members in consequence of more taxes paid ; the relative increase becoming the virtual representation of a community and not the direct representation of property. The Charter government of Rhode Island restricted suffrage to free- holders and their eldest sons. Again, the compromise rep- resentation of slaves under the constitution was a partial recognition of property, or of a class of citizens based on property. All these variations were abnormal, and they were gradually rubbed out by the political attrition of the changing time. The representation of the Mormons in Congress — as Mormons, not as citizens — was a virtual fail- ure. It is easy to predict that no recognition of classes or guilds, of vested interests, of social or religious associa- tions, of specialists in any kind — farmers, merchants, man- ufacturers, laborers, preachers, teachers ; — that no recogni- tion of any special classification of citizens will ever be made by the United States. The American franchise is a consolidating force, and it is likewise a dissolving force of great power. It might be said that senates are an exception to this direct representation of individual persons. This is more apparent than real. In form, senates — State or congres- sional — are not popular organs of government ; but they are not anti-popular. They are rather the highest evolu- tion of the system, by which town, county, city, State, by which all these organs modulate the action of the citizen. They naturally and properly represent the grand political thought, the deeper consciousness of the whole people. They are not a guild or corporation outside the popular 29 organs ; they are rather an amalgamating centre which thus far has transmuted the soberest convictions of the people into well measured political action. Their remarkable suc- cess in the past should indicate and direct their necessary course for the future. II. The representation by persons, the bringing of the largest number into the representative action of the whole people, necessarily carried with it the working superiority of a majority ; when practically all were represented, then the larger part of that all must prevail. Though party govern- ment has not developed in the same form as in Europe, the American representation has constantly tended toward two great parties of voters. This large separation soon sur- passed all minor differences. A third political party never lasted long ; it either became a majority or it was absorbed by a larger principle. This was not an accidental tendency, but a legitimate development. Our intense local administration of affairs might have descended into narrow particularism, if the larger national force had not prevailed and had not been generally prevailing over the many and narrow parts. This larger political consciousness even enforced an unconscious respect for the minority, in the action of the majority itself. The majority could not proceed, as if it were the whole, and as if the lesser part did not exist. To illustrate this subtle influence of a minority, we may remember the power of the anti-slavery voters prior to 1860. III. It is impossible to comprehend or elucidate the actual operation of a majority in America without our third prop- osition. When we consider what the mass of the American people have done in some two centuries and a half; that they have subdued a continent, and in the process have sent back to Europe enough new political ideas to fairly balance the receipt of old social ideas from the elder peo- 30 pie, — it is worth inquiry, what has been this political pro- cess? Mark you, it has been the great mass of average persons — Mr. Lincoln's plain people — who have done this work. How were they organized to do it? Moreover, as the power of a majority is increasing in all countries, as larger and larger bodies of voting people are coming to act on public affairs, the query, how will they act, becomes more important. Sismondi said, "perhaps the greatest difficulty in politics is to make the people worthily elect its representatives." As I have tried to show, our forefathers evinced great sagacity in the art of government when they perceived — intuitively, if not consciously — that the greater and less involve quality as well as quantit}'. While our representa- tion is based on persons, there are many factors entering into the political action of those persons. Property, condi- tion, education — the immediate active condition, what may be called the momentum of each voter — enter into a politi- cal movement, and all these influences inevitably work in a qualitative way. A few perceive a strong and major politi- cal principle ; their conception penetrates wider circles and affects larger numbers, the conception enlarging as it goes. For example, a very small number, in 1789, perceived that federalism must become union, and a union wielding the force of an empire. I have alluded to the course of anti- slavery ; civil service reform likewise has affected politics through its quality, and through a small number of advocates. This is a well defined drift and bent of modern democracy, and a leading reason for its success in changing the politi- cal characteristics of various nations. It is not by any new rendering of the dogma of equality, but by better assimila- tion of the mass in a large number to the best purpose of the most enlightened, that democratic government works well. France has strengthened her government by more effective representation of her people as a whole. Her monarchical, imperial and radical parts have been ground 31 together in a republican mill ; while the result is not ideal, it has enlarged the scope of representative government. In the final working of an American majority mere num- bers affect the effective result comparatively little. It is the sympathetic action of the great mass, not its crushing weight, which gives political momentum to the last great factor, the majority ; numbers convey this force, as iron rails carry the locomotive, but there is no essential force in the rails to urge forward the train. The qualitative power of the voter enables him to impress himself on the mass of men, to institute his voting will as an organic part of the machinery of government. This appears in all the forms for guarding the rights of minorities. All impor- tant organic measures require two-thirds to three-quarters of the votes — and generally more than one trial — before they prevail as laws. A majority of 65 per cent, is just as much neutralized as a minority of 49 per cent, is nullified in ordinary legislation. In the casting vote of a president or chairman, the vote thus brought in becomes qualitative and is much stronger than any other vote in the body. The qualitative power in representation involves large consequences. The power of the State, the force of the whole community is exerted through the settled functions of the government. The course of action, after being estab- lished by a clear majority, is instituted in a legislature, an executive and a judiciary. A definite political desire, working through the mass of the people, becomes a creature of the State and is administered with its whole power. As said above, whether it be expressed in the proportion of 65 per cent, or 49 per cent., the majority and minority are both cared for. This is the power of the people moving outward, through and according with the organs of govern- ment. It is the same process as that of the old dogma of the divine right of kings, which on the contrary moved outward and downward through the people. Consider the political action of slavery from 1820 to 1860. It had a large political advantage ; though a minority in numbers ; it 32 moved legislature, executive and judiciary at its will until 1861. Had the issues been all political, it may be reasona- bly supposed that slavery would have finally converted the whole United States. Its moral defects, and especially its relative economic weakness when it moved masters with slaves in opposition to a homogeneous mass of freemen, in settling new territories ; these defects developed political weakness, insurrection and rebellion. A fine illustration of this qualitative influence in affairs, through the inevitable action of the solid parts of govern- ment — and one developed by the American people — is afforded by the United States Supreme Court. Here five or forty cases may be decided by five or forty courts, and then all may be reversed at Washington. Hundreds of lawyers and judges below work toward a certain end; then that end may be reversed by five out of nine men. These men are known to be not inspired ; the courts especially repudi- ate all forces lying outside the reason. Yet numbers im- plicitly yield opinions, property or vested privilege to this institution, which is larger through its quality. Equally remarkable, in another direction, was the political power of the emancipation proclamation in 1863. A comparatively small minority believed in it when the executive put it forth. If the issue had been popular, a majority would have voted it down, probably. The State supported this deliberate act of the executive, resting on a minority in numbers, until the people were changed into a friendly majority, by the qualitative power of the measure and the action of the gov- ernment. These are deep principles and root-ideas in popular gov- ernment. We began their elucidation among the weak communities and in the wilds of Massachusetts Bay, Con- necticut and Rhode Island. It would be interesting to inquire how Teutons and English acq; ired them so readily, how Romans and Greeks never practised and apparently never perceived them. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 012 081 324 9 (^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 012 081 324 9 Q