which now lie beyond legal jurisdiction. If it
be objected that the American people are incapable
of an effort so prodigious, I readily admit that this
may be true, but I also contend that the objection
is beside the issue. What the American people
can or cannot do is a matter of opinion, but that
social changes are imminent appears to be almost certain.
Though these changes cannot be prevented, possibly
they may, to a degree, be guided, as Washington guided
the changes of 1789. To resist them perversely,
as they were resisted at the Chicago Convention of
1912, can only make the catastrophe, when it comes,
as overwhelming as was the consequent defeat of the
Republican party.
Approached thus, that Convention of 1912 has more
than a passing importance, since it would seem to
indicate the ordinary phenomenon, that a declining
favored class is incapable of appreciating an approaching
change of environment which must alter its social status.
I began with the proposition that, in any society
which we now understand, civilization is equivalent
to order, and the evidence of the truth of the proposition
is, that amidst disorder, capital and credit, which
constitute the pith of our civilization, perish first.
For more than a century past, capital and credit have
been absolute, or nearly so; accordingly it has not
been the martial type which has enjoyed sovereignty,
but the capitalistic. The warrior has been the
capitalists’ servant. But now, if it be
true that money, in certain crucial directions, is
losing its purchasing power, it is evident that capitalists
must accept a position of equality before the law under
the domination of a type of man who can enforce obedience;
their own obedience, as well as the obedience of others.
Indeed, it might occur, even to some optimists, that
capitalists would be fortunate if they could certainly
obtain protection for another fifty years on terms
as favorable as these. But at Chicago, capitalists
declined even to consider receding to a secondary
position. Rather than permit the advent of a
power beyond their immediate control, they preferred
to shatter the instrument by which they sustained
their ascendancy. For it is clear that Roosevelt’s
offence in the eyes of the capitalistic class was not
what he had actually done, for he had done nothing
seriously to injure them. The crime they resented
was the assertion of the principle of equality before
the law, for equality before the law signified the
end of privilege to operate beyond the range of law.
If this principle which Roosevelt, in theory at least,
certainly embodied, came to be rigorously enforced,
capitalists perceived that private persons would be
precluded from using the functions of sovereignty
to enrich themselves. There lay the parting of
the ways. Sooner or later almost every successive
ruling class has had this dilemma in one of its innumerable
forms presented to them, and few have had the genius
to compromise while compromise was possible.
Only a generation ago the aristocracy of the South
deliberately chose a civil war rather than admit the
principle that at some future day they might have
to accept compensation for their slaves.