Who or what are the public? You say, the people! What people? Dr. Johnson defined the public as "A majority of society," but this is rather indefinite. "The public! the public!" exclaims Chamfort, "how many fools does it take to make the public?" Bancroft did not think the public fools, for he says, "The public is wiser than the wisest critic." If the public is the majority, who is to say that they are wise or unwise, right or wrong, fools or philosophers? Who or what is to be the court of last resort? Somebody has said that the majority is usually wrong, but who is to decide whether the majority or that "somebody" is wrong? Schiller had but little faith in the majority, for he wrote, "Votes should be weighed, not counted; the voice of the majority is no proof of justice:" and Bovee suggests that a better principle than this, that "the majority shall rule," is this other, that justice shall rule. And according to the code of Justinian, "Justice is the constant and perpetual desire to render every man his due." But, as a matter of fact, the majority seldom do rule, for while our public men and political bosses may say "The public be damned," as was publicly said by at least one man and echoed by at least a thousand, the public is pretty sure to get anything but justice, so long as such men are in control of the election machinery. The public have opinions, doubtless, but they have not yet found a way of expressing them when they want to, and not often do they get what they want. The public is a heterogeneous mass, without organization and without any settled community of interest. Sometimes, we call the public by the uncomplimentary name, the mob. Goethe thought the public particularly sensitive, for he said that "The public wishes itself to be managed like a woman; one must say nothing to it except what it likes to hear." He also thought them ungrateful, for he said, "He who serves the public is a poor animal; he worries himself to death, and no one thanks him for it." Hazlitt was of like mind, and he maintained that the public have neither shame nor gratitude.

When we say of a man that he is popular with the masses, we mean with the people; and it is interesting to speculate on how we form such an opinion. How do we know that a man is popular with the people? Certainly we have not asked all the people about it, and the few we have asked may not be representative. Perhaps we form our opinion of the public's opinion from one or more of these things: what the newspapers say, what those persons say with whom we have talked, and from our knowledge of the human heart generally. As for the last, we know that such virtues as honesty, self-sacrifice, ability and courage are universally admired, and that such vices as dishonesty, selfishness and cowardice are universally condemned; so that if we know what impression certain acts of a public official have made, we may come pretty near knowing whether that man is or is not popular. As to the newspapers, they are usually very close to the people, but they are sometimes closer to some other influence.

Certainly the public must not be put down as fools. They may be ignorant, when it comes to determining some great question over which the best minds of the world are in dispute; they may be illogical; they may be unreasoning; they may be sentimental; they may be unstable in judgment; but certainly they are not fools. Like children and animals, the most ignorant of the public have their instincts and intuitions, and while the sun of public opinion may fluctuate from cloud to cloud, it generally sets true at last. Like the Athenians, and sheep, the public are more easily driven in a flock than individually. Just as the crowd will make way for the man who pushes boldly forward, so will the public follow any good leader who knows enough about his business to appreciate the value of such sentiments as patriotism, humanity, unselfish devotion and human sympathy. While such a leader is in favor, the public are more than willing to be led, like so many sheep, but the most trivial incident will sometimes win their disfavor, and history shows that the public are perfectly willing to crown a man one day and to hang him the next. To gain the favor of the mob is not so difficult; but to serve the public so that they and their posterity will in after years honor his name, that is indeed difficult, and decidedly worth while.