Part 25 (1/2)
You see, this whole question of good government is right up to _you_.
_You_ are the remedy for bad government, young man--_you_ and not somebody else, not some theory. So be a committeeman or some sort of a ”worker” in real politics. Help run our inst.i.tutions _yourself_, or, rather, be a part of our inst.i.tutions yourself.
If you have neither the time nor apt.i.tude for such active work, at least be a citizen. That does not mean merely that you shall go to the polls to vote. It does not even mean that you shall go to the primaries only. It means a great deal more than that.
At the very least be a member of an active political club which is working for your party's success. There are such clubs in most wards of our cities.
They are the power-houses of our political system. Party sentiment finds its first public expression there--often it has its beginnings there in the free conversations which characterize such American political societies. You will find the ”leaders” gathering there, too; and in the talks among these men those plans gradually take form by which nominations are made and even platforms are formulated.
These ”leaders” are men who, in the practical work of politics, develop ability, activity, and effectiveness. There is a great deal of sneering at the lesser political leaders in American politics. They are called ”politicians,” and the word is used as a term of reproach, and sometimes deservedly. But ordinarily these ”leaders,” especially in the country districts of the Republic, are men who keep the machinery of free inst.i.tutions running.
The influence of no boss or political general can _retain_ a young man in leaders.h.i.+p. Favoritism may give you the place of ”local leader”; but nothing but natural qualities can keep you in it. The more we have of honest, high-grade ”local leaders,” the better.
Whether you, young man, become one or not, you ought at least to be a part of the organization, and work with the other young men who are leaders. But be sure to make one condition to your fealty--require them to be honest.
”I have no time for politics,” said a business man; ”it takes all my time and strength to attend to my business.”
That means that he has no time for free inst.i.tutions. It means that this ”blood-bought privilege” which we call ”the priceless American ballot” is not worth as much to him as the turning of a dollar, or even as the loss of a single moment's personal comfort.
”Come down to the club to-night; we are going to talk over the coming campaign,” said one man to another in an American city of moderate size and ideal conditions.
”Excuse me,” was the answer; ”we have a theater party on hand to-night.”
Yes; but while the elegant gentleman of society enjoys the witty conversation of charming women, and while the business man is attending to his personal affairs and nothing else, the other fellows are determining nominations, and under the direction of able and creative political captains shaping the policies of parties, and in the end the fate of the Nation.
Of course that is all right if that is your conception of American citizens.h.i.+p. But if this is going to be ”a government of the people and by the people,” _you_, as one of the people, have got to take part in it. That means you have got to take part in it _all the time_.
Occasional spasms of violent civic virtue amount to little in their permanent results. They only scare bad men for a day or two. Their very ardor soon burns them out. The citizen has got to do more than that--he has got to take an every-day-and-every-week interest in our civic life. If he does not, our brave and beautiful experiment in self-government will surely fail and we shall be ruled not even by a trained and skilful tyrant, but by a series of coa.r.s.e and corrupt oligarchies.
In ancient Israel a certain proportion of the year's produce was given to the Temple. In like manner, if popular government means anything to you, you have got to give up a certain portion of your time and money to _being a part_ of this popular government.
Just this is the most important matter in our whole National life.
Recently there died the greatest master of practical politics America has produced. Firmly he had kept his steel hand upon his state for thirty years. A dozen times were mighty efforts made to break his over-lords.h.i.+p. Each time his resourcefulness, audacity, and genius confounded his enemies. But finally that undefeated conqueror, Death, took this old veteran captive.
He left an able successor in his seat of power, but a man without that prestige of invulnerability which a lifetime of political combat and victory had given the deceased leader. ”Here,” said every one, ”is an opportunity to overthrow the machine.” Within a few months an election occurred--not a National election, but one in which the ”machine”
might have been crippled.
But, _mirabile dictu_, the ”good people,” the ”reformers,” the ”society” and ”business” cla.s.ses, _did not come out to vote_. They not only formed no plans to set up a new order of things, _they did not even go to the polls_. Yet these were the descendants of the men who founded the Nation and who set free inst.i.tutions in practical operation.
This shows how American inst.i.tutions, like everything else, have in themselves the seeds of death if they are not properly exercised. When the great body of our citizens become afflicted with civic paralysis, it is the easiest thing in the world for the strong and resourceful ”boss,” by careful selection of his precinct committeemen and other local workers all over his state, to seize power--legislative, executive, and even judicial. It has been done more than once in certain places in this country.
Where it is successful, _the Republic no longer endures_. The people no longer rule; an oligarchy rules in the name of the people. And where this is true, the people deserve their fate. And so, young man, if you do not expect this fate to overtake the entire country, _you_ have got to get right into ”the mix of things.”
_You_, I say, not some other man, but _you_, _you_, _you_. _You_--you yourself--YOU are the one who is responsible. Quit your aloofness. Get out of any clubs and desert all a.s.sociations which sneer at active work in ward and precinct. Do not get political locomotor ataxia.
It was a fine thing that was said by a political leader to a singularly brilliant young man from college who, with letters of unlimited indors.e.m.e.nt from the presidents of our three greatest universities, asked for a humble place in the diplomatic service. He wanted to make that service his career.
”I like your style,” said the man whose favor the young fellow was soliciting. ”Your ability is excellent, your recommendations perfect, your character above reproach, your family a guarantee of your moral and mental worth. But you have done nothing yet among real men.
”Go back to your home; get out of the exclusive atmosphere of your perfumed surroundings; join the hardest working political club of your party in your city; report to the local leader for active work; mingle with those who toil and sweat.
”Do this until you 'get a standing' among other young men who are doing things. Thus you will get close to the people whom, after all, you are going to represent. Also this contact with the sharp, keen minds of the most forceful fellows in your town will be the best training you can get for the beginning of your diplomatic career.”