I feel that as a resident on earth, part owner of it for a time, unavoidably a member of society, I have a right to a voice in determining what my condition and what my chance in life shall be.  I may be ignorant, I should be a very poor ruler of other people, but I am better capable of deciding some things that touch me nearly than another is.  By what logic can I say that I should have a part in the conduct of this world and that my neighbor should not?  Who is to decide what degree of intelligence shall fit a man for a share in the government?  How are we to select the few capable men that are to rule all the rest?  As a matter of fact, men have been rulers who had neither the average intelligence nor virtue of the people they governed.  And, as a matter of historical experience, a class in power has always sought its own benefit rather than that of the whole people.  Lunacy, extraordinary stupidity, and crime aside, a man is the best guardian of his own liberty and rights.

The English critics, who say we have taken the government from the capable few and given it to the people, speak of universal suffrage as a quack panacea of this “era of progress.”  But it is not the manufactured panacea of any theorist or philosopher whatever.  It is the natural result of a diffused knowledge of human rights and of increasing intelligence.  It is nothing against it that Napoleon iii. used a mockery of it to govern France.  It is not a device of the closet, but a method of government, which has naturally suggested itself to men as they have grown into a feeling of self-reliance and a consciousness that they have some right in the decision of their own destiny in the world.  It is true that suffrage peculiarly fits a people virtuous and intelligent.  But there has not yet been invented any government in which a people would thrive who were ignorant and vicious.

Our foreign critics seem to regard our “American system,” by the way, as a sort of invention or patent right, upon which we are experimenting; forgetting that it is as legitimate a growth out of our circumstances as the English system is out of its antecedents.  Our system is not the product of theorists or closet philosophers; but it was ordained in substance and inevitable from the day the first “town meeting” assembled in New England, and it was not in the power of Hamilton or any one else to make it otherwise.

So you must have education, now you have the ballot, say the critics of this era of progress; and this is another of your cheap inventions.  Not that we undervalue book knowledge.  Oh, no! but it really seems to us that a good trade, with the Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments back of it, would be the best thing for most of you.  You must work for a living anyway; and why, now, should you unsettle your minds?

This is such an astounding view of human life and destiny that I do not know what to say to it.  Did it occur to Mr. Froude to ask the man whether he would be contented with a good trade and the Ten Commandments?  Perhaps the man would like eleven commandments?  And, if he gets hold of the eleventh, he may want to know something more about his fellow-men, a little geography maybe, and some of Mr. Froude’s history, and thus he may be led off into literature, and the Lord knows where.