Aju-4-'^'^ BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME FROM' THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF 1891 s MA^^^T Cornell University Library JK2265 .T46 Politics in a «'8"l9F,!|i?,9,Yj olin 3 1924 030 482 933 The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://archive.org/details/cu31924030482933 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY AN ESSAY BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON AUTHOR OF "A SYSTEM OF PSYCHOLOGY;" "THE TROBLEM OF EVIL; "the HELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS OF THE HUMAN MIND;" "SOCIAL progress;" "the philosophy of fiction in LITERATURE," ETC., ETC., ETC. NEW YORK LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1893 ^.LLLL^ Copyright, 1893, by DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON Press of J. J. Little & Co. Astor Place, New York TO WILLIAM F. VILAS UNITED STATES SENATOR FROM WISCONSIN MY PERSONAL AND FAMILY FRIEND OF LONG STANDING I RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBE THIS VOLUME CONTENTS. PAGC Argument, ix-xiv CHAPTER I. Monarchy, i CHAPTER II. The Supernatural Monarch, g CHAPTER III. Democracy, 13 CHAPTER IV. The Degradation of Law 26 CHAPTER V. Combination and Organization 30 CHAPTER VI. The Political Party 35 CHAPTER VII. Government by Syndicate, . .... 43 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE The Democratic and Republican Parties, . . .52 CHAPTER IX. Tammany Hall, 63 CHAPTER X. The Supporters of Tammany Hall, . . . .75 CHAPTER XI. The Critics and Opponents of Tammany Hall, . . 92 CHAPTER XII. The Evil and the Good in Tammany Government, . 108 CHAPTER XIII. Some Special Counteractives against Evil, . .131 CHAPTER XIV. General Remedies and Ultimate Tendencies, . . 140 ARGUMENT. A CONSPICUOUS characteristic of people living under a monarchial rdgime is the sentiment called Loyalty. This is exhibited in reverence for and self-denying devotion to a personal sovereign. It involves a high development of the sense of duty, " impelling men to do what they think they ought without hesitation, and even with enthusiasm, irrespective of personal consequences. The path of duty, wherever it may lead, is the only way to glory. The progress from monarchy to democracy has been marked by a decline of this sentiment of loyalty. Such decline has been stayed by relig- ion, loyalty to a supernatural monarch taking the place of devotion to a human sovereign. The decline has further been stayed by patriotism, love of a common country, which is rendered very intense by a state of defensive conflict for self- preservation. But when religious authority wanes, and the safety of a democracy is established past all fear, with prosperity assured, the sentiment of loyalty dies out. With it also departs in large measure the sense of duty. Individual ends take X POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. the place of social ends. I look at everything from the point of view of self, considering only- how / am to be affected. I pursue the course of conduct which will presumably benefit me the most, considering any other procedure as foolish. Hence arises a state of eager competition on the devil-take-the-hindmost principle. Each man struggles against his neighbor to surpass him. Every one is for himself, and there is no common end of effort. The community sense is lost, the selfish inclinations predominating over the social. But with increased liberty arises a more ex- tended and intensified ambition ; and men soon find that they cannot accomplish their purposes single-handed. Voluntary combination and organi- zation follow. Cooperation on the basis of a common interest is entered into, lasting as long as that interest is preserved. The results attained by this method are so satisfactory that the princi- ple and practice are extended in every direction. People combine and organize, in all departments of activity, for certain specified purposes of com- mon advantage. This is true in politics, as elsewhere. The first form of combination is the Political Party, which is generally national. It is originally a union of citizens thinking alike on questions of public policy and working to put into office exponents of their ARGUMENT. XI ideas. But the opposition of parties increasing, the competition between them tends to solidify each. The eagerness for success makes the parti- san study the most effectual means of ensuring it. These he finds in concentration of power. Within the party goes on a process of specialization of function by which the direction of affairs is vested in the hands of a few. " Rings " are hence formed and " bosses " arise. The organization becomes more military and less democratic. The profes- sional politician comes to the front. The professional regards politics as a business, wherein the object is success in carrying out meas- ures and in putting men into or out of office. This end is determined by the interests of the party for which the professional works. The limitation of the scope of operations renders success easier. Hence we find, particularly in cities, that the forces of combination and organization have produced the most perfect form of what we may term the Governing Syndicate. This is a com- pact, well-organized body, controlled like a busi- ness house and established on the commercial principle of undertaking the government of a city as a matter of business. The syndicate will do the municipal government work, and to that end fill and control the offices, for what the people will let them make. This form of governmental Xil POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. administration obtains in most of our great cities. It is commercial in principle, but not necessarily vicious. At all events it is a natural and readily explicable product of evolution. As illustrations of the political party proper in the United States, we have the Democratic and Republican parties ; the former is the party of the masses, of personal liberty, and of individualism ; the latter, the party of the aristocracy, of author- ity, and of socialism. The best illustration of government by syndi- cate is Tammany Hall in New York City. Its methods explained, its vote analyzed, and its supporters classified. The city election of 1890 for mayor taken as the test of Tammany strength, all other elements of the voting population being then combined against it. The critics and oppo- nents of Tammany examined, and Tammany Hall defended. Its existence, or the existence of a political power like it, shown to be inevitable. The evil and the good in Tammany government set forth, the good preponderating. The special remedies for political evils lie in the direction of less government rather than more. The great difficulty now is found in legis- lation. Something should be done to control legislative action, to prevent legislating for indi- viduals and classes of individuals. The general ARGUMENT. Xlll remedy lies in the education of men so as to re- store, if possible, the sense of duty ; to find some way to renew the spirit which existed in the sen- timent of loyalty to the king. This can only occur through the higher development of the altruistic character and the formation of such an ideal of life as will cause human beings to find their satisfaction in doing things well ; in enjoy- ing to the fullest what is at hand, rather than struggling for the unattainable ; in being worthy of success, rather than attaining it by restless striving. But though there are dangerous evils conspicu- ous in American democracy, the outlook, after all, is encouraging. The neglect of politics by men of intelligence and wealth, the indifference to cor- ruption, scheming, and selfishness which we ob- serve, and which are often cited as evidences of national decay, do not argue a general deteriora- tion, or an increasing depravity of the people leading to anarchy in the sense of revolution, violence, or even insecurity of life or property. This condition of affairs is, rather, symptomatic of an evolutionary movement toward a situation where government is becoming of less consequence because of the self-control and self-regulation of people in their conduct toward each other ; to- ward that anarchy wherein government ceases XIV POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. because unnecessary. This is the true argument to be drawn from what is sometimes called our political decadence. The more stable society is, the more secure people are in the great rights of Life, Liberty, and Property, the more certain is government to become of less consequence and its administration to be relegated to professional politicians, who work for wages, as they would in any other business. In a country of liberty and political equality, the statesman in the old sense must become obsolete as civilization advances and society becomes more perfect. POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. CHAPTER I. MONARCHY. In these days, when the reality of government by the people seems in America to fall so far below the standard of excellence which a high ideal of democracy forces us to set up, the won- der grows, in the mind of the thoughtful person, whether, after all, anything has been gained for human happiness by the abolition of monarchy and the vested rights of aristocratic classes. Under the recognition of status there is more stability, and thus more certainty in predicting the future from the past. Hence man, knowing what is to come, can so shape his conduct as to meet the events of life with the least amount of effort, disturbance, and anxiety. His adaptation becomes more complete, his mind is more con- tented, and his joy keener. In the absence of this stability he knows, indeed, that greater oppor- tunity is afforded him to rise in the world by his 2 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. own striving ; but he also learns the bitter lesson that the energy of those below is just as likely to knock him down from the position he actually holds. Not only is eternal vigilance the price of liberty, but eternal contention is the price of security. There is no rest for the weary. It is a constant struggle for survival. Nothing is at- tained, but one is always seeking. Or, if some- thing be grasped, there is need of so much exer- tion to hold it that ease for enjoyment is not possible. There is no chance for that cultivation of happiness and enlargement of its sources which quiet and repose inevitably bring and alone can secure. But with the other regime, if the king proudly claims that his rights are paramount, that he is answerable to no man, but serenely enjoys his prerogatives " by the grace of God;" it is also true that the humblest workman, though his sphere of action be limited, by this very lim- itation is furnished with an incentive to growth within that sphere, which, if it goes on, brings him the satisfaction of mastery, making him happy as a king and as proud as any ruler of men. Dr. George Hepworth has beautifully writ- ten the story of a poor man who went through life rejoicing in his humble calling, attaining the fulness of his desires, esteeming himself more blessed than if he wore a royal crown, and asking MONARCHY. 3 when he died that there be inscribed on his tomb- stone the words, " Shoemaker by the grace of God " ! * Thus, where conditions are fixed, even though there be barriers which may not be passed, there is something in the thought that those bar- riers may after all be a protection, and that within them lies an opportunity for getting good out of life more certain and more ample than any to be found if they were swept away and the humanity they enclosed precipitated into a mobile ocean of rolling and tumultuous waves. If kings had not been so prone to war it may well be doubted if democracy would have ap- peared so desirable, or would have been put in practice so extensively. War is the most terrific disorganizer of society, and its destructiveness is the greatest bane to human happiness. Thus, when the people who were to be the chief suf- ferers from its ravages saw that national conflicts were entered into upon a theory of national honor which depended on the personal likes and dislikes, the ambitions and caprices of autocratic rulers, they naturally began to agitate for such a regime as would prevent whole communities from being plunged into bloody strife at the will of one man, or a few. They reasoned that the system of government was the chief cause of their woes, * " Hiram Golf's Religion." 4 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. until they came to believe that if any one was to be killed it ought to be the kings and princes, whose selfishness was always prominent and whose concern for the popular welfare very slight. Hence came revolutions ; at first perhaps looking merely to a change in dynasty, but in time be- coming satisfied only with some form of demo- cratic control. Nevertheless, even with war and under oppres- sion there is something in the monarchical idea which has always appealed attractively to the minds of men dwelling together in society. The notions of greater power and greater perfection, intermingled in varying proportions according to the characters of different individual's, have ren- dered subjection to a monarch not only easy but preferable. Mankind worships the hero, whether he be superior in strength or preeminent in wis- dom and goodness. The people, knowing their own limitations, demand a leader, and having found one they glory in him. This is not less true in a democracy than under autocratic govern- ment. Power and perfection seem to go together. The might that must be obeyed is that which ought to be obeyed. The conqueror is first sub- mitted to, ex necessitate, then reverenced and per- haps loved. That which originally was merely the Great tends to become finally the Good. MONARCHY. 5 Out of this union of fear and love arises a sen- timent whicli dominates the actions of men in a degree often sufificient to overcome the selfish instincts and inclinations. It is a sentiment of Loyalty to a Sovereign which has sent countless multitudes to death unflinchingly and even tri- umphantly. It takes hold of the ignorant and unthinking more strongly than upon the enlight- ened and cultivated. It sways masses of men who are selfish, brutal, and ferocious; it stimulates their courage to an extreme development ; it im- pels them to deeds of daring and devotion that no Christian martyr, filled with divine altruism, ever surpassed. No tribes of savages are so low as to be wholly without it, and under its influ- ence the polished and courtly knight joyfully faces the cannon or yields his life to the sword or spear. No one can claim justly that this potent senti- ment is an entirely unselfish one, or that the acts Avhich it inspires are free from motives of individ- ual advantage. The love of glory and the ambi- tion for personal aggrandizement are frequently conspicuous in the hero. To the common soldier the hope of plunder and unrestrained license to gratify the baser passions may be the ultimate incentive. For the ends which the human mind sets before itself, however self-denying they ap- 6 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. pear, still must bear some relation to self-satis- faction. But over and above all these egoistic motives, governing and controlling conduct is the belief, with strong emotional accompaniments, that only through subjection, obedience, devotion to the sovereign, can the good things of life be ob- tained in whatever direction they may be thought to lie. From force of education and habit this homage comes to be rendered almost automatic- ally. Thus loyalty grows to be an unreasoning sentiment, which issues in action unreasoned, spontaneous, and certain. It is difficult to estimate the component feelings of this masterful sentiment, because they vary so much with respect to each other in different indi- viduals ; but undoubtedly the general basis is fear and the characteristic manifestation submission and obedience. The lower the civilization the more strongly does this last-named emotion make itself evident. The great chief is the irresistible man, who maintains his position by his distin- guished prowess. He may be a monster of cru- elty, some Zulu Chaka, but he is obeyed as " The Heavens above," because he is universally feared. His power to crush and kill, the certainty that he will exercise it, and the impossibility of escape, ensure the loyalty of his subjects. Recognizing the supremacy of their king, they ascribe to him MONARCHY. 7 attributes which they think will be pleasing and propitiatory. Being allowed the favor of his pres- ence, or exercising his bounty, the original terror becomes softened to awe and admiring reverence. For him they will work and strive, his behests they will follow, that they may not only avoid his wrath, but share in the benefits of his superior power. This last motive increases in strength and effi- ciency as civilization grows. As enlarged intelli- gence gains a more complete mastery over brute force, the chief maintains his hold, not so much as before because he is mighty in battle, but because he is of use to those who support and obey him, and because he somehow awakens their love or friendly enthusiasm. Though the impression of his great power still remains, he is thought of more as a realization of ideal virtue, or as a guarantor of the attainment of those ends of life cherished and pursued by the subject. The latter thus hum- bles himself before the king as an inferior creature, and worships royalty under the belief that his own well-being is thereby assured. Under such a stim- ulus, modified from the primitive motives, loyalty continues to maintain itself as a tremendous sen- timent, governing the conduct of the gentle, the refined, the cultivated, as it does that of the fierce and bloodthirsty barbarian. o POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. It is not the present intention to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of monarchy, or to trace its influence, or show its characteristics under its various forms from extreme absolutism to the most liberal constitutionalism. My pur- pose just now is to call attention to a prevailing characteristic of the people who live under a mo- narchical regime, the existence in the individual character, and the great influence over that char- acter as determining conduct, of the powerful sentiment we are accustomed to call loyalty to and reverence for a personal sovereign ; the chief, the essential element of whose sovereignty is power and right to command, as against all indi- vidual subjects and associations of subjects. CHAPTER II. THE SUPERNATURAL MONARCH. It has been greatly to the disadvantage of kings that they are, despite their greatness, human beings and mortal. However superior they may be, the limitation of both their power and their perfection cannot be ignored. Sometimes it is painfully ob- vious. Canute could not stay the sea, nor Caesar avoid the dagger of Brutus. Monarchs are not proof against disease nor against the countervail- ing of men. Nor are they heroes to their valets. Under many circumstances they are in such a position as to excite contempt and even ridicule for their weakness. Frequently their acts are such as to inspire malignant hatred. In either of these conditions the sentiment of loyalty is under- mined, and only favorable opportunity is needed to cause the breaking forth of rebellion. It is considered that prosperous treason is no longer treason, and sacred as may be the majesty of the king, when his power is gone his glory has departed. These things being so, it is not strange that mon- archy has generally called religion to its support. 10 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. The religious sentiment of loyalty to God is of the same nature as the political one of loyalty to a king. Both recognize a sovereignty and the duty of obe- dience. Both set up models of superior power and superior excellence. Both have their roots in fear, and both afford room for love and trust. In fine, the attributes ascribed to the supernatural monarch are but enlargements and extensions of the traits assigned to the human ruler. But the divine ruler has the great advantage of being an ideal creation, assumed to be absolutely perfect in all his attributes, with no possible risk of his dig- nity being lowered by actual comparison of reality with the ideal standard. God is not the subject of criticism by courtiers; and though from his re- moteness he may not be able to exercise the direct, present, and constant influence of an earthly governor, as a sovereign of infinite per- fections he stands immeasurably superior. Loyalty to a divine monarch is inculcated by religion. From the fallibility of human rulers, it naturally happens that sometimes obedience to the latter conflicts with obedience to the former. The greater the purity and ideality of the divine law, as interpreted by the ministers of God, the more contemptible appear the requirements of a weak or vicious monarch. Hence, in order to sus- tain the authority of the latter, it becomes neces- THE SUPERNATURAL MONARCH. II sary to hedge the king about with divinity. He himself must become a priest of heaven. He must stand as the representative of the Greater King. He must hold the sceptre as God's vice- gerent upon earth. He rules by the grace of God, whose servant he is and upon whom God's favor especially rests. Thus the threatened opposition between divine and human authority is averted. Of course his- torically this is not always so, as innumerable con- flicts between state and church testify. And many are the instances where the sense of duty of an individual to God has impelled him to resist defensively, or overtly and aggressively to attack, royal power. But, on the whole, religion has been a bulwark of monarchy. The idea that he is God's representative in the civil and political order operates largely to prevent the people from con- sidering the king's shortcomings. His sins are all venial. He can do no wrong. Gluttony, lechery, cruelty, avarice, do not appertain to a king. Private vices are immaterial, and public crimes are the work of bad advisers or subordi- nates. In like manner, on the other hand, all his virtues are exaggerated. He is most magnificent, most beneficent, most noble, most Christian. He is clothed with divine traits of character, and fre- quently is sainted or made a demi-god. With the 12 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. aid of these religious increments the sentiment of loyalty to a monarch becomes strong enough to persist even though the ruler be worthless or wicked, entirely unfit for his exalted station. In recent times the private character of royal personages has greatly improved. For the most part they have been amiable, kind, generous, fairly intelligent, personally attractive when young, and dignified, respectable, and lovable when the after- noon of life is reached. The Emperor William I., of Germany, was undoubtedly a magnificent speci- men of humanity, whether considered physically, mentally, or morally. Queen Victoria is ordi- narily exalted as a model of womanhood. Most of the reigning sovereigns of civilized nations are thoroughly respectable, impressed with the sense of their responsibilities, and animated by a Chris- tian sense of duty to their fellow-men. Under such circumstances the monarchical regime appears at its best. When loyalty to the divine and the human king, to the supernatural and the political monarch, can be blended and concentrated upon a person who, being a man, exemplifies the most divine traits of humanity, the advantages of this form of civil government for the stability of society and the happiness of mankind are the most salient and the most real. CHAPTER III. DEMOCRACY. It will not be necessary for the purposes of this work to trace the course of historical evolution by which, through the increasing desire and demand for individual liberty and political equality, democ- racy came into vogue. Nor is it important to repeat the familiar arguments by which the supe- riority of a democratic form of government is thought to be demonstrated. It is, however, within our line of study to note some of the im- perfections of popular rule and how they came to arise. To do this effectively we shall be obliged to inquire into the influence upon character of the greater power in political matters which democracy confers on the individual. Character determines conduct in large measure, and the determining sentiments which make up character are different under different regimes. Whatever results may be worked out in prac- tice, theoretically, at least, democracy does not contemplate doing away with law or government. It claims only to present a superior form of govern- ment and a better method of applying and enforc- 13 14 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. ing law. It does not aim to detract from the sacredness of law or lessen the duty of obedience, although it may regard the sources as different and create different rules of interpretation. The principle of social existence under any theory can only allow to the individual so much liberty as consists with the common liberty. And, indeed, without social liberty it can readily be shown that individual liberty cannot be secured. To assure the common freedom there must be law, which must be obeyed and enforced. This is recognized under a democratic as under any other government. But with popular sovereignty the seat of author- ity is changed. The sovereign is not one but the many. There is no person or class of persons in whom remains inherent the right to rule, but every man is entitled to say, " I am king," as much as any other. Every one lawfully may command as he is by law required to obey. Each individual may participate in the making of law, in its inter- pretation, and in its enforcement. He is free to form his own ideas of right and wrong, of what ought to be allowed and prohibited by the state ; and also to put forth his best efforts to attain a position from which he may have power to exercise his will in accordance with his notions. He is permitted to " rise in the world," politically and DEMOCRACY. 15 socially, and to aspire to any station that any other man may reach. Thus it must inevitably happen that reverence for personality as the embodiment of righteous authority will abate. For whoever represents the law as its administrator does so only upon the election of the multitude — a plurality of the people. No particular sacredness is attached to him or his personal character. It may be acci- dental that he is invested with authority. He may be wholly unfitted, the worst of those who were candidates for the position. If despised per- sonally, he is only entitled to consideration because, so long as he is in office, he is a minister of the law. And the fact that his tenure is short does not increase personal respect. With the spirit of competition becoming intense, in the general eagerness -that he shall as speedily as possible get out of the way, disparagement, abuse, and obloquy are his unhappy fortune. Thus, in a democracy the sentiment of loyalty to a person as invested with any portion of the sovereignty of the state tends to disappear. It is in a measure replaced, however, by love of coun- try and patriotic impulses which keep alive the sense of duty to the state. In that strong reac- tion from monarchical institutions out of which democracy becomes established, liberty is the l6 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. great war-cry, and patriotic sentiment is focussed around the idea of greater freedom for the indi- vidual. " My country, 'tis of thee. Sweet land of Liberty — Of thee I sing.'' If, then, a common interest of self-preservation exists, a degree of enthusiasm and energy may be created, through the dominance of an abstract idea, as potent and all-controlling as any senti- ment of loyalty to a monarch. The superior force of tyrants in the world's history often has been wholly unable to overcome the unquenchable spirit of devotion to the cause of liberty. When, oppressed by evil conditions, people entertain strong hopes of throwing off the burden that weighs them down, there is a powerful motive force to effort. And if in the process of such achievement they are obliged to fight for life itself, the enthusiasm for country, for home, for altars and for fires, for native land, bursts forth into an energy of action which death can hardly paralyze, but which lives on and glows with greater intensity in those who survive, impelling them to immortal deeds of heroism. Moreover, the personal element which is so important for the maintenance of the sentiment of loyalty, and which, at first thought, would seem DEMOCRACY. I? to be eliminated in the transition from monarchy to democracy, is still preserved, for a time at any rate and in considerable measure, by religion. There is no longer a king, indeed, who shines with the divine glory clothing him, but if there exist faith in a supernatural ruler, such a theory of ethics is apt to be embraced as will make love of and serv- ice to one's country, to the cause of liberty, the development and improvement of the human race, service to God and proof of loyalty to him. The voice of the people becomes the voice of God, and in heeding and following the one we respect and obey the other. Such a coincidence of patri- otism and religious devotion is found in its most effective form in the New England common- wealths at the time of the American Revolution. The government became essentially theocratic. As Mr. Oscar S. Straus * has shown, " In the spirit and essence of our constitution the influence of the Hebrew commonwealth was paramount." " Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God." "But where, say some, is the king of America? I'll tell you, friend ; he reigns above, and doth not make havoc of mankind like the royal brute of Britain. Yet, that we may not appear to be defective even in earthly honors, let a day be set *" Origin of Republican Form of Government in the U. S." (1885), p. 79, and elsewhere. 2 1 8 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. apart for proclaiming the charter ; let it be brought forth, placed on the divine law, the word of God."* In those days the influence of the ministers and preachers was exceedingly great in their application to politics of the teachings, and the enforcement of the commands, of Holy Script- ure. To be patriotic and to be religious were the same. In loyalty to God was both the source and the constantly feeding spring of patriotic thought, desire, and action. The American democratic republic was avow- edly established to secure certain " inalienable rights " with which men " created equal " are " endowed by their Creator " ; " among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." f That is to say, the founders of this republic intended and expected to attain for all the people security to pursue happiness unhampered and un- hindered, to follow out such ends and aims of life as they might choose and entertain. This in- volves, of course, the limitation placed upon each individual by the equal rights of others ; but, sub- ject to this restraint, it was designed to open the way to each person to follow the bent of his nature in working out his own happiness and accomplishing his own destiny. These purposes * Quoted from Thos. Paine : "Common Sense," op. cit., p. lS6. f Declaration of Independence, 1776. DEMOCRACY. 1 9 have been realized to a degree never before known in the history of the world. Undoubtedly there has been attained in America a more complete security than ever before reached for the free development of the spontaneous energies of the individual man. It is quite obvious that the ends which the free and autonomic citizen will pursue will be some- what different from those set before the subject in a monarchical regime. All those employments and objects of aspiration which are appurtenant to the pomp of kings and royal aristocracies are swept away. The courtier's honors are abolished. This of itself works considerable change, but, after all, it is relatively a small matter compared with the vast alteration in the whole scheme of social life. The contrast cannot be better shown than by the terms Militant and Industrial Civilization. These are by no means synonymous or coincident with Monarchy and Democracy, respectively ; for there have been militant democracies, and there have been and are industrial monarchies. But it is undeniably the case that the establishment of democracy tends to bring about a social state wherein the arts of peace and the commercial industries are universally cultivated and flourish to a prevailing extent. That such should be the case is inevitable, for success in war necessitates 20 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. a monarchical order and the adoption of the methods of absolutism. By the very theory of a democratic society, soldiery as a career loses most of its interest. It may be honorable to serve in a militia for defensive purposes, but chieftainship, which is essential to a purely military ambition, is impossible. Where all are equal before the law, no one can attain such a supremacy as to say, " I will lead you to conquest and glory." The will of no one can be powerful enough to induce the many to enter upon war, unless first the demo- cratic regime is broken down. And if from pecul- iar circumstances it happen that a popular move- ment brings about war, such uprisings are so uncertain and occur so seldom that the youth beginning life naturally seeks his career rather in the activities of peace, and makes her rewards his chief object of effort. If the state of society be such that life is secure from violence, its support by industrial activity will be the fi.rst consideration. Freedom to ac- complish this will become the chief constituent in the idea of liberty. But the support of life speedily becomes a matter not merely of activity, but of preserving the products of activity. Not only work is needed, but laying up a store as the result of work against the day when labor is no longer possible, \fience, obtaining and holding DEMOCRACY. 21 property rises to the position of a prime object of life in an industrial community.) It is directly conducive to the preservation of existence, and without it, to say the least, life is precarious and insecure. Freedom to acquire and hold property in security thus comes to be of essential import- ance under a democratic regime, because this is necessary to that development of life, in the liberty to choose and pursue individual aims, which is the fundamental idea of democracy. But this is not all. The desire for liberty is also the desire for expansion. An oppression which is crushing out life stimulates opposing energy to throw off the burden. When this is lifted, the principle of growth continues to operate in enlarg- ing the field of action. The impulse to overcome resistance is still strong, although the necessity for self-preservation has passed. That is to say, craving for liberty very speedily grows into an eagerness for power, leading to the formation of ideals of success, reputation, honor, greatness, which are set up and followed with great persist- ence. ,(But power in an industrial democratic civilization can best be obtained through the pos- session of wealth.7 He who already has that which all men are seeking, is in a position of vantage. By the use of his money he can command the services of those who are struggling for support or 22 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. for an improved status. They will do his bidding according to the degree of their necessities or ambitions. He can hire service directly, or obtain it indirectly through the natural inclination people have to attach themselves to the prosperous and great. He can enjoy luxuries and make others sharers with him. He can satisfy his desire for achievement of great things by planning and carry- ing out vast enterprises adding to his resources and augmenting his fame. He can more readily secure political eminence and the honors of official station. Whatever may be his tastes, he can gratify them most completely by acquiring riches, which bring both security and power. To do this be- comes the individual's chief aim, and to accom- plish the desired result he bends all his energies. The community, consequently, comes to pre- sent the spectacle of extended and intense indus- trial and commercial competition, in which every man's hand is turned against his neighbor to gain what advantage he can within the field of strife. A constant warfare goes on which occupies the energies, sharpens the wits, and concentrates the attention upon the exigencies of business success. The active side of human nature is everywhere stimulated, while the enjoyments of rest and leisure are little considered. Xonstant exertion is the rule ; nobody is satisfied with what he has DEMOCRACY. 23 attained, but is forever striving for something more.!) Generalizing the results of this condition of affairs upon character, it will readily be seen that the tendency is to increase selfishness and self- concentration, and to diminish and dwarf the self- denying virtues. The individual self becomes to each one the centre of all aims. No doubt in monarchical countries the same spirit is observ- able, but duties of self-abnegation are required which keep the character balanced. With these last removed, as to a great extent they are in a democracy, the individual's advantage becomes more completely the standard of his conduct. He no longer asks, What do I owe to the com- munity in this matter ? but rather. What will be the use to me of this or that particular course ? And the more stable the order of society, the more certain is this to be the case. When a person feels perfectly secure of his life, liberty, and prop- erty, it does not occur to him that he is bound to make any sacrifices for the general good. The welfare of the country does not occupy his atten- tion, except in a very general way. It is hard to persuade him that he has active duties to perform as a citizen. The need of his exertions in that line is never pressed upon him. The more suc- cessful democracy is, the more prevalent is that 24 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. separatism which weakens the claims of social duty and makes the individual man the end and measure of all things to himself. Whatever career he enters into, the chief consideration is what can be got out of it for one's self, not what service can be rendered to others. The present gain is eagerly grasped ; the more remote and larger ad- vantage is set aside. Under the circumstances described, not only do the general aims and objects of life become more self-limited and egoistic in their nature, but the methods of attaining those ends are affected by the condition of enlarged freedom. The individ- ual claims the prerogative of being the sole judge of the right and wrong of his own actions. His own opinion of his conduct is as good as that of any other man. His acts and opinions of them being colored by his interests, it naturally follows that his sense of justice to others is weakened. Business is war, and he lays down as a rule of action, " Do others, or they will do you." Hence the sense of honor is blunted, and honesty itself ceases to be held in high regard. As in a militant and monarchical civilization murder is the prevail- ing crime, so in an industrial and democratic society, cheating, fraud, and stealing are the prom- inent and pervasive derelictions. Under the militant regime war means assaults upon life ; in DEMOCRACY. 2$ an industrial society, though so-called peace pre- vail, war exists in the form of contests for property, often of the most intense and merciless ferocity. In its effects upon character it may well be doubted if the latter is any improvement over the former. With all its horrors, military life develops grand and heroic characters, while industrial war tends to create sneaks and poltroons. Besides, the war of the sword is intermittent. The battle over, humanity, courtesy, the finer and gentler feelings come into full play. In the industrial conflict the battle never ends. The combatants always have on their armor. Unless one is ever on guard, the death-dealing stab may come at any time. War is even carried into social life ; the entire being is so moulded as to be fitted for and everywhere to exhibit the condition of struggle. CHAPTER IV. THE DEGRADATION OF LAW. In the preceding chapter we saw how the sen- timent of obedience to authority surely becomes weakened when it ceases to have a kingly person- age upon whom to rest ; but that a struggle against oppression or aggression develops the sentiments of patriotism which are just as effective, and that the alliance of the sense of moral and political duty with the religious emotions and motives pre- serves a loyal devotion to the state and the welfare of the community in general. But we also ob- served that as the social order becomes more assured in a democracy, and there is little danger apprehended of any assault upon the institutions of government and society, the patriotic sentiments likewise become diminished in force, the aims of activity become self-centred and indifferent to the general good. If now the hold of religion upon the mind and heart is loosed, so that loyalty and duty to a divine monarch no longer influence con- duct, what have we left of authority to constrain the wills of men to respect right and justice ? There is a remarkable warning uttered by De 26 THE DEGRADATION OF LAW. "21 Tocqueville which is quite apropos of this ques- tion. It is to the effect that the passion for ma- terial well-being has no check in a democratic community except religion, and if religion were to decline, then liberty would perish. Mr. John Rae remarks upon this : " It is impossible, there- fore, in an age when the democratic spirit has grown so strong and victorious, to avoid taking some reasonable concern for the future of liberty, more especially as at the same time the sphere and .power of government are being everywhere continually extended, and what is called material civilization is ever increasing, and religious faith, particularly among the educated and the working classes, is on the decline." * That such a decline of religious faith has oc- curred in America there can be no doubt. The deference paid to the teaching of the Scriptures in the colonies at the time of the Revolution, as exhibited in the work of Mr. Straus quoted from in the last chapter, no longer exists, nor does there prevail the fear of God as a bestower of rewards and punishments in this world to a degree sufficient to affect conduct to any great extent. The situation * See " Contemporary Socialism," by John Rae, Introduction, p. 26, where the author comments upon De Tocqueville. I have alluded to this in another work, " The Problem of Evil," chap. xxvii. p. 266. 28 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. SO much deprecated by the French commentator on our institutions has arrived ; what result is noticeable ? In general terms, we may say the result is to destroy or impair the sentiment of reverence for law, and of duty to honor and sustain it. Law no longer has its seat in the bosom of God, but is a human institution. Nor, as such, is it venerable as a permanent and certain rule to be respected and obeyed universally by all good citizens. It is regarded as a temporary, shifting, accidental re- straint upon conduct, which has no inherent sacred- ness and which is liable to be set aside or modified as public opinion shifts. It is not an infallible ex- pression of justice, but, on the contrary, often works injustice. It is not a thing to be perpetu- ated, but rather to be abrogated as soon as cir- cumstances allow. It would not be a matter of so much concern if this view only led to efforts to change and im- prove law in orderly methods. But there are other and very dangerous consequences. Such a want of respect is developed that the duty to obey law until it is changed is no longer felt. The moment the individual interest comes into col- lision with the legal mandate, the latter is re- garded as an obstruction to be gotten rid of in one way or another. Ingenuity is then set at THE DEGRADATION OF LAW. 29 work to discover some way in which the law can be nullified or avoided. No conscience interferes to prevent this. On the contrary, it is considered a mark of laudable ability, if such a design can be successfully accomplished. Reputable men inquire how they can circumvent the statutes, and thieves consult lawyers before they begin to steal, to as- certain the farthest limit to which they can go and escape the penitentiary. Thus, with the individual's will as the arbiter and measure of all things for himself and his own conduct, sitting in judgment upon the acts of the community in its collective capacity, rejecting what he likes and supporting only if his interest dictates, the citizen ceases to feel any civic obliga- tion, and all law comes to be regarded as more or less of an evil if it interferes with any settled aim or cherished purpose. Government is neces- sary — but for other people. The idea of applying to one's self the same rule of action which one would apply to the rest of the world fades away. Law becomes, then, a fact to be reckoned with, indeed ; but to be dealt with, if occasion arises, simply as a business difficulty to be overcome by business skill. Verily, in this generation the com- mandment is no longer a lamp, nor is the law light, nor the reproofs of instruction the way of life.* * Proverbs of Solomon, chap. vi. 23. CHAPTER V. COMBINATION AND ORGANIZATION. Under conditions where activity is least fet- tered and freedom the most complete, it would seem that people ought to be satisfied. But it must never be forgotten that larger liberty gen- erates wider ambition. And when the desire is aroused to realize such ambition, the impo- tence of the unaided efforts of one individual fre- quently becomes apparent. Then are developed the spirit of organization and movements toward combination. This is certainly advantageous as supplying a wholesome and potent counteractive to a threatened disintegration of society, which must appear when every man is for himself and the respect for authority is greatly weakened. But a n;an cannot have his own freedom without ac- cording to others equality of liberty. Further than this, when he forms his ends of life and tries to work them out, he is not able to accomplish much without the cooperation of others. And as, in a democracy, he cannot compel this assist- ance, he must invite it. He inust accord some- thing to the needs and wishes of his fellows. This COMBINATION AND ORGANIZATION. 3 1 situation his intelligence quickly grasps. He sees that his road to the achievement of great results lies in combinations of and with other workers, and in voluntary organization for the purposes held in view. Without this he can do nothing ; with it, everything. The growth of the industrial and commercial spirit, leading men to follow the arts of peace rather than those of war, impelling them to build and construct rather than to destroy, insures co- operation chiefly in the direction of acquiring power by the accumulation of wealth. The pro- motion and management of business enterprises in all their variety present the great field for com- bination of efforts. To make such efforts effective there must be security of person and property ; so that, however intense the struggle for success, the peace must be preserved and crimes of violence repressed. But beyond this there is very little restraint upon action. To secure the desired end foul means as well as fair are often employed. The more power attained through cooperation, the more unscrupulous the use of it. The more closely united and efficient the combination, the less will it regard obstacles arising from the ob- ligations of social morality. So true is this, that in regard to the most far-reaching and tre- mendous form of combination a proverb has 32 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. been adopted which declares that " corporations have no souls." The desire for political success and power is by- no means absent in a democratic state. It exists often with the purpose of finding a career in poli- tics itself. In former times in the American re- public, and in some places at the present, the pursuit of politics as a principal life activity has been adopted and continued, so that men have distinguished themselves as statesmen and are characterized and remembered by their public work. Such men may have been popular leaders in political movements, occupants of important public offices, or advocates of measures of reform which, even if unsuccessful, brought their champi- ons before the world as powerful characters. In whatever manner their energies may have been put forth, they are known as public men, whose rewards lie in the reputation they may have been able to achieve for ability and effectiveness in statecraft and service to the state. But there are many others who see in political influence and power the way to obtain something they value more. They seek to use political posi- tion to acquire wealth, which they deem to be the most precious possession. Some desire office for a salaried living; others for the opportunities it affords them to make money indirectly by engag- COMBINATION AND ORGANIZATION. 33 fng in large and lucrative undertakings, in further- ance of which official favor can be obtained or legislation influenced. Politics is a means to an end, and that end a private interest. The perva- sive spirit of commercial and industrial aggrandize- ment seizes hold of the governmental system and utilizes it for business objects. Whatever maybe the ideas of people who enter into politics, and whether their motives be selfish or unselfish, if they expect to accomplish their designs they will not fail to recognize the neces- sity of this same method of combination and organization which we have observed as so essen- tial in other spheres than the political. Especially is this indispensable where universal suffrage lies at the foundation of political power. One vote avails nothing, but a majority, directed to some given end, secures it and achieves the desired result. Wherever concentration is practicable, the stake is won. The larger the number of those who can be induced to join the combination, and the more thorough and complete the organization of those who have joined, so that as little force is wasted as possible, the more certain is the out- come of whatever effort is attempted. Here, as in everything else, in union there is strength. Hence, there have come into existence in Amer- ica two forms of combined action for political 3 34 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. purposes, which, though more or less involved with each other, can yet be broadly distinguished and are in many essential respects different. These we will consider in order in the succeeding chap- ters. The one I shall venture to term Govern- ment by Political Party ; the other, Government by Syndicate. CHAPTER VI. THE POLITICAL PARTY. Political parties in the United States are for the most part national. Now and then local issues will develop local parties contained within State lines, but generally the field of their opera- tions is wider. To maintain a national party, some ideas or principles seem requisite, and those parties have always maintained the most vitality which have had some definite object to be gained or policy to be pursued. The pro-slavery and the anti-slavery organizations are, perhaps, the most perfect specimens of partisan combination for a purpose. With them, the end to be attained was always kept in prominence. Intense feelings were aroused, and the most effective work was done because of a complete unity of sentiment. The individual was willing to sink himself for the sake of the cause, and the triumph of that cause was the thing sincerely desired above all else. The capacity of the political party to evoke en- thusiasm and command loyalty to itself has its good and its bad side. It no doubt increases the social spirit which binds men together by com- 36 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. mon ties of feeling and interest, and in consider- able measure fosters patriotism. The theory of party is, of course, the securing, through its su- premacy, of all the advantages to obtain which government exists. It is in furtherance of a good social and political order. It takes into account the welfare of large numbers of people. It aims for the general, not primarily for the individual, interest. It claims to be a servant of the nation, through whose success there will be greater pros- perity for everybody. On the other hand, the same enthusiasm and steadfastness, which are of so much value in a partisan, create one of the greatest evils of gov- ernment by party. The sodality of the organiza- tion hinders and may defeat its legitimate ends. The loyalty to party transcends loyalty to the country. In the majority of human beings there is natural an adhesiveness to their surroundings, their associations, their friends, which is very dif- ficult to overcome. In general, this is a creditable trait of character. It tends to promote stabil- ity, to favor a regard for man as man, to cause one to overlook faults and pardon transgressions. It is very much the same sort of sentiment as that which keeps the family together. But if sound judgment is not introduced to govern feel- ing, if a blind obstinacy causes one to deny pal- THE POLITICAL PARTY. 37 pable faults and to impute virtues where none exist, it is unfortunate for everybody. Espe- cially must this be the case where a prejudiced devotion to so large a combination as a political party prevents a calm and reasonable criticism of its efficiency and value for the country's weal. Yet whole communities are affected in that way. The uniform and almost unanimous adhesion of the Southern States to the Democratic party is an illustration, as also is the almost unvarying Repub- licanism of the States of Vermont and Pennsyl- vania, though the gravest scandals have attached themselves to the party management in the latter State. Where such a persistent adherence to party exists, it does not matter much how venal, cor- rupt, and unpatriotic the organization may be, the mind of the citizen seems incapable of breaking away and relinquishing the long allegiance. Even if the errors and misfeasances be recognized, the voter comes back to the old standard when the test of the ballot is applied, perhaps scarcely knowing, himself, why he continues to indorse an organization he sees to be in the wrong. Bishop Phillips Brooks observed in one of his discourses : " This is the largest and richest edu- cation of a human nature — not an instruction, not a commandment, but a friend." The author of this sentiment might have qualified it by some 38 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. discrimination as to the kinds of friends, but no doubt the personal influence upon each other of those dwelling together in the same community counts for more than " instruction " or " com- mandment " imparted by any other agency. If fealty to the party is an extension of the family, the neighborly spirit, it is no wonder that men are supported for office because they are liked, not because they can pass a good civil-service examination ; and that, when the party succeeds, the demand arises that the spoils of office shall be distributed among the victors. But it is not under circumstances of social kinship and fidelity that the greatest difficulty arises from the spirit of clannishness. Where this is strong, conservatism is pervasive. Loyalty to the party is genuine loy- alty, which takes into account the character and reputation of the whole body. Men feel they owe a duty to their party, whose excellence is, indeed, cherished as an ideal. They must so act, if in- trusted with official responsibility, as to bring credit and honor to those whom they represent. The latter feel responsible for their representa- tives, and require a good stewardship. So long, then, as the true theory of party as a means to governmental ends is preserved, it will continue to be true that he serves his party best who serves his country best. THE POLITICAL PARTY. 39 Such preservation is greatly helped by the op- position of parties. All students of politics have remarked the great advantage to the public weal of a vigorous and effective opposition of at least two parties to hold each other in check. The shortcomings of one are relentlessly exposed by the other, its policies are thoroughly criticised, and its evil tendencies made a matter of publicity. If by argument and by conduct it cannot show the baselessness of the charges made against it, loss of public favor and defeat will follow. The necessity of thus being on the alert has a very powerful educating influence to keep the stand- ards high. It is the party rioting in the luxury of power and not in fear of competitors, that is filled with corruption and dangerous to the welfare of the community. Unfortunately, however, that same determina- tion to seek present individual interest, which we have already commented upon so considerably, obtains within the political party and with rela- tion to its movements, just as it does in every- thing else, be it the counting-house or the church. The difficulty is not, after all, that the party is partisan, that the constitution suffers " between friends," that sodality and companionshjp drive out all the patriotism, but that within the organi- zation the same forces are operating which are 40 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. conspicuous in the whole social life of the state. Each one is endeavoring to rule, not to serve. Ambitious men are everywhere trying to turn the power of unity to their own individual benefit. It is what the party will do for them that they are solicitous about, not what they can do for the party. Like the forces of nature, it is something to be used, to be worked for what it is worth. If they profess blind loyalty, they always keep one eye a little open for their own interest. Of self-sacrifice there is none. Self-assertion is everywhere para- mount. When, therefore, men to whom loyalty and duty are words which have ceased to have any practical import, gain control of political machinery, and among the masses of the organization there still prevails the old superstitious devotion to the party flag, we find the truly unfortunate and discourag- ing situation. The devotees still worship, though the god has departed from the image and a devil has come to dwell therein. They follow where their leaders indicate, though it be down a steep place into the sea. However fallacious the princi- ples and demagogical the measures which are pro- posed, they are adopted and supported because they bear the orthodox stamp. The wonder is that where each man has a voice and a vote, the activity of the members of the THE POLITICAL PARTY. 4 1 party is not aroused to overthrow a bad set of rulers and purify the organization from within. It is often said that the reason lies in a degenerate apathy, which reveals a callousness to all civic ob- ligations. Even if this be so, there is still perti- nent inquiry into the cause of this apathy. The explanation will be found, I think, in the tendency to organize, of which we have spoken, and, going with it, the tendency to specialization of functions. Combined and concentrated power accomplishes much more than scattered force. Dissent scatters energy and hinders the attainment of important results. Moreover, in the competitive struggle everywhere going on, a man needs all his attention directed to whatever he has selected as the princi- pal end of his efforts. Save within narrow lines, he cannot hope to do effective work. Hence, the inevitable tendency is to leave everything to other people pf which one does not feel able to make a vocation and to which he does not feel disposed to give his fulJ thought and best work. Hence, poli- tics comes to be a profession, and the management of political affairs is not intrusted to the amateur, but passes into the hands of the professional. And now appears that other form of govern- mental administration to which reference was made at the close of the last chapter. Precisely as laborers combine in trades unions, as capitalists 42 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. organize into corporations and again into trusts, so professional politicians increase their power and fortify themselves in their places by combi- nations into " rings " and syndicates for political purposes of all sorts. For the reasons before stated, it may well be doubted if they rise to a position of control because of the ignorance or wickedness of the voting population. Their ad- vent is a natural consequence of social conditions such as have been described in these pages. This is the first fact which reformers should consider. Due consideration will save them from wasting their breath in denunciations of human depravity, with the only result of lessening their own reputa- tions as political seers and prophets. Jeremiads do not appear to have done much good in the days of Jeremiah. At present they signify less and are still less effectual. The better way is to see things that are as they are, then to ask in a scientific spirit why they are ; after which it can better be determined whether they ought to be changed, and, if so, by what methods of action. CHAPTER VII. GOVERNMENT BY SYNDICATE. Mr. Frank R. Stockton has written a very amusing story entitled " The Great War Syndi- cate," according to which, on the breaking out of a war between the United States and Great Britain, a syndicate of capitalists is employed, who, having become possessed of some truly marvellous inven- tions, by their instrumentality conduct the war speedily to a triumphant conclusion for the United States. If the present state of public opinion becomes more confirmed, it would not be so very surprising if, in case of conflict with a foreign power, the contract for carrying it on were actually let to a corporation, a syndicate, or a trust. For the business of government in general has in many instances been farmed out in a time of peace, and if this proceeding is satisfactory then, why should it be any less so in times of war ? The most complete form of government by syndicate has appeared in cities, for a variety of reasons, which will be disclosed as we proceed. Obviously the field is a better one in a municipality for those who wish to undertake the business of 44 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. governing. There is more governing to be done, and it pays better. On the other side, with a het- erogeneous population, and with everybody busy with his own affairs, there is a greater apparent need of some one who will make a specialty of administration of public affairs. Hence the forma- tion of political " rings," the very idea of which often arouses righteous indignation. Reflection should teach us that though in regard to some of their doings such wrath may be proper, neither a "ring" nor a "boss" is always and inevitably a dangerous phenomenon. The control of public affairs by a syndicate is a matter of permission by the voters, on an implied contract in effect something like the following : A number of men, thrown together in one way or another, and of a tolerable degree of congeniality and power of adaptation, say to the people of the city, "We will undertake to govern this munici- pality, filling the offices with such men as we choose, giving you the service that such a town as ours requires for the security and comfort of its citizens, for such compensation as we can get you to allow us." In the minds of the proposers it is a commercial undertaking, very much like that of the contractor who essays to build and equip a railroad. They do it for the emoluments they expect to obtain. Whether or not they give a full GOVERNMENT BY SYNDICATE. 45 equivalent for what they get, depends both on the character of the men who do the work and on the closeness with which they are watched and held up to their duty. Inasmuch as the syndicate is maintained in power by votes, and at public elections covering the whole political field, naturally it allies itself with some political party. Indeed, this would seem inevitable. For the syndicate is the out- growth of combination and organization within the party ; and even if it ceases to make party purposes its chief object, it can hardly divorce itself wholly from the wider association. Nor does its interest lie in so doing. For by alliance with the political party proper it has the advantage of being able to appeal with success to those minds which are influenced by partisan patriotic ideas. If the syndicate is Democratic, it can command the sup- port of those who glory in the fact that they are Democrats ; if it be Republican, in like manner those who always have been and always will be Republicans give it their votes. In hoc signo it wins its victories. But the leading, the fundamental idea in this sort of combination is a private interest. Whether openly avowed or not, the animating spirit at bottom is a commercial one. The syndicate is a business combination for business ends. Those 46 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. ends are to make money by giving civil adminis- tration. To say that such a scheme, however, must necessarily be devoid of patriotism is not warrantable. Corrupt motives might as well be charged against every employee or every one who buys and sells. The employee works for his living, but sooner or later he finds out, if he succeeds, that good service is essential. The seller of goods sells for money, but the better the article the more he sells and the greater his profit. If government is a business worth doing, it is a business worth doing well. The " practical politician " finds this out as quickly as any one else, and trims his sails accordingly. Quite apart from the educating influences of a criticising public to make those in office see that success lies in doing good work, it by no means follows that those who engage in government on the commercial principle have no regard for the common weal, no love of country, no respect for law and order, for honesty and decency in the rela- tions of men to each other. On the contrary, they have the interest of all citizens in safety for them- selves and security for their property. Their busi- ness will not otherwise prosper. The very com- mercial nature of their undertaking requires the preservation of peace and order as a sine qua non. All the traditions and sentiments which inspire GOVERNMENT BY SYNDICATE. 4/ healthy appreciation of the blessings of a common liberty are present no less in the minds of the pro- fessional politician than in other people, even though the standard of action is lower and present expediency too frequently is preferred to the greater but more remote good. Under any form of government, the man whose political action, whether in office or not, is without taint of private interest, is exceedingly rare. And if the profes- sional politician does not act upon lofty principles, he certainly is not an anarchist ; and perhaps, de- spite his dishonesties, it may be found that he has just as much love of country as the man who takes no interest in politics, and will not even trouble himself to vote. To make the syndicate effective, there must be order and discipline among its members and fol- lowers. Orders given by those above must be obeyed by those below. It is not, and in its nature cannot be, a democratic organization, where each one has his say on equal terms with any other. If it be successful, it must become homogeneous. It must be closely knit together and compactly organized. It must have at least as much of a military rdgime as any large busi- ness establishment. The councils must take place at the top. Those in subordinate positions must be hands rather than heads. The more 48 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. numerous the members, the more necessity exists for soHdarity. Every one must be relied upon to do the bidding of the heads of the house, else the association will be disrupted and the business will be a failure. As a consequence of the need of perfection of organization, in the process of development of the syndicate the " boss " is very apt to make his appearance. He is usually a man raised to that eminence by merit, his merit consisting both in his knowledge of conditions and quickness in apprehending a change in them, and in his knowl- edge of and ability to control men. He attains his position not by formal election but generally by common consent. His tenure depends upon his success ; that gone, influence with his own comrades goes with it, and some one else mounts his throne. He may be apparently absolute, or he may share his authority with two or three others, though the natural tendency is toward a one-man power, one general-in-chief, whose com- mands are law, at least upon critical occasions or in crucial matters. But however complete the absolutism may seem to be, more in politics than in any other kind of combination it will be found that the most successful leader is, after all, the best follower, who leads because he is quick to rise to the top of the wave that propels him forward. GOVERNMENT BY SYNDICATE. 49 Another characteristic of such combinations as we are now considering is seen in connection with the requirement of implicit obedience just spoken of. The subordinate workers are taught to feel that they are responsible first of all to the organ- ization, and not to the people as a whole. The theory is that the syndicate, through its leaders,, will deal with the voters, and that the duty of an ofifice-holder put into ofifice upon nomination of the society is to show complete fidelity to the association of which he is a member, executing its will and fulfilling its law first of all, even should this conflict with his own judgment of what is expedient for the syndicate or best for the welfare of the community. The discipline and effective- ness of the organization will be satisfied with nothing less than a military subordination to superior authority on the part of all who carry the colors of the army, in the rendering of which responsibility ends. Of course there are various degrees of perfec- tion of syndicate organization. Every party is governed more or less strictly by leaders, and often it happens that the influence of some one commanding personality is preeminent. Under other circumstances power is distributed, and the degree of allegiance required and given varies greatly. It is hard to make mere working tools 4 50 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. of men, yet the tendency is more and more to do so. Still, as a general rule, under the most exacting political " machines " it is not expected that all intelligence be abdicated, or that all polit- ical morality be thrown to the winds. As to the advantages and disadvantages of gov- ernment by syndicate, I shall have more to say in subsequent chapters. At present it is enough to note the very singular fact that the processes of social evolution have developed in a purely dem- ocratic country, where the right of all the people to participate in the government has always been most strenuously and jealously maintained, a form of civil administration wherein the many deliberately turn over to the few, voluntarily as- sociated for the purpose, the tasks of governing, and refuse to be further concerned with civic affairs. This is done with no reluctance and no fear of loss of liberty, nor indeed with any appre- hension that thereby government by the people for the people shall perish. To statesmen of fifty years ago such a condi- tion of things would be appalling. At the present time it is shocking to many, who nevertheless not only submit to but support the organization they condemn. In former days, no doubt, the establishment of a governing syndicate would mean revolution and loss of liberty. This is pre- GOVERNMENT BY SYNDICATE. 5 1 cisely what the same thing always did accomplish in the Italian republics. But a little thought will convince one that government by syndicate, as illustrated in the United States, does not in the slightest degree menace free institutions. The reason has been mentioned before in these pages. The social order throughout the country, and par- ticularly in the municipalities (where this form of administration is chiefly found), is industrial and absolutely opposed to militancy. Any serious at- tempt to disturb the existing status by revolution- ary methods would be thwarted at once. More than that, the very objects for which the syndi- cate exists, and in furtherance of which it waxes powerful, would be utterly defeated by the de- struction of commercial prosperity. Any move- ment materially disturbing the social order would result in the disintegration of the organization it- self. This would be the more certain the more com'pletely it is devoted to money-making pur- poses. CHAPTER VIII. THE DEMOCRATIC AND REPUBLICAN PARTIES. General principles do not take hold upon the mind effectually unless applied to particular cases. But if one is seeking to elucidate existing conditions and study political movements in the light of scientific principles, he walks on danger- ous ground if he makes comparisons between political parties. The writer's sympathies and affiliations are sure to display themselves, and his work is apt to lose all scientific character in the eyes of a political opponent. Nevertheless, I shall venture to set forth what to my mind appear to be the chief motive forces influencing the policies of the two leading political parties in the United States, as distinguishing the one from the other. I mean more especially to indicate the underlying social sentiments, springing from character and determining individual desires and interests. If what I say is discredited on the score of partisan bias, I shall be sorry; but I see no way in which the purposes of this treatise can be accomplished without running the risk. The Democratic party has existed almost from DEMOCRATIC AND REPUBLICAN PARTIES. 53 the foundation of the United States, and has exhibited certain sentiments and ideas with a con- siderable degree of uniformity throughout its whole history. The Republican party began in the year 1854, having been founded to support the proposi- tion that there should be no further extension of slavery in the Territories. It rose to power and maintained its supremacy upon an emergency, in devoting itself to the preservation of the Federal Union against the Slave States. For this emer- gency the Democratic party was found utterly wanting, its principles and policy carrying it to the extreme of permitting denationalization. The secession and slavery questions settled under the leadership of the Republicans, the Democratic party has been regaining its ascendency upon the old lines, along which it had achieved such con- spicuous success in the earlier days. If I should attempt to characterize the Demo- cratic party in the most general way possible con- sistent with accuracy, I should call it the party of Individual Liberty. This will answer both for an historical description and a statement of what it is at present. It believes in the right of each man to go to heaven or hell in his own way. It denies the right of society through government to inter- fere with matters of personal concern. It holds that government exists to furnish protection and 54 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. security against assaults upon the fundamental rights, so as to leave the individual truly free to seek happiness after his own methods, unhindered by his fellow-citizens. It claims that the govern- ment should go no farther than this, and that while it is the duty of the citizen to support the government, it is not the duty of the government to support the citizen. Hence, it insists that " the government should make the least possible demand upon the citizen, and the citizen the least possible demand upon the government. The citizen should never suppose that he can be made virtuous or kept virtuous by law, or that he ought to be helped to wealth or ease by those of his fellows who happen to hold the offices, and for that reason to be collectively called ' the govern- ment.' " * It readily appears that with such principles the Democratic party ought to be uncompromisingly democratic in the sense of believing in the full participation of the popular masses in the govern- ment. So it has been in the main. It has urged that the man of low estate should be heard as well as the mighty. The ignorant, the common, the toilers should be represented in office ; their * Edward M. Shepard ; "Man and the State," Brooklyn Ethi- cal Asso. Lectures, p. 440. D. Appleton & Co. 1S92. DEMOCRATIC AND REPUBLICAN PARTIES. 55 wants should be considered and relieved accord- ing to their own ideas, not upon the principle of paternal kindliness of superiors toward inferiors. The source of political power should be below, and the current from below upward, not contrari- wise. The country should be governed not by the wealthy, not by the socially exalted, nor always by the aristocracy of intellect, but by the poor, the wage-earners, the strugglers, to whom political liberty is of the most importance, because from their necessities they are less free than those better circumstanced pecuniarily. If the Democrat believes in the minimum of interference on the part of the government with the liberty of the individual, it is not strange to find him opposed to sumptuary laws. It is thus naturally the case that the Prohibitionist (as to sale of liquors) does not find himself at home in the Democratic camp. It is probably true that the liquor-selling interest generally supports that party, although in more than one Republican stronghold the rulers, recognizing the rum-seller's power in politics, do what they can to favor his traffic in return for fealty to their party. And in the State of New York the Democrats, controlling the legislature, have more than once refused to grant the demands of the liquor-dealers, deeming it bad policy to allow the latter to become inde- 56 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. pendent of the party control, and no longer obliged to pay tribute. In pursuance of its theory of curtailing the scope of governmental functions and preventing the consolidation of power, the Democratic party has been the foe of centralization of government and the friend of home rule or local self-govern- ment. Sometimes, indeed, it has wofully failed to live up to its principles in this respect, but in general it has been faithful to them. It was this faithfulness which brought the party to its lowest depths of degradation at the time of the war of secession, preventing it from seeing that national unity must be preserved for the very sake of securing liberty and saving the blessings that had been gained under a regime of Democratic freedom. It was too theoretical and not practical enough. Some of its best men left the party, while the remnant blundered on and blundered ever, with incredible stupidity, to the great benefit and glory of their opponents. For a long period, as a na- tional organization, it only fulfilled the offices of an opposition to the party in power, acting as a check or a drag, often in a very reprehensible spirit, and by deeds ill-timed, vexatious, and futile. The Democratic party wages war on capitalistic monopolies, corporations, and trusts. Now that there has arrived a tyranny of wealth, it is inevit- DEMOCRATIC AND REPUBLICAN PARTIES. 57 able that the Democracy should rise up against it. The party's traditions, its platforms, its composi- tion, insure this. To be consistent it ought like- wise to combat the corresponding tyranny of labor. But its course in this respect is not so clearly evi- dent. The feeling no doubt prevails within the party, that the capitalist or monopolist is the aggressor, while laborers have combined only in self-defence. The despotism of labor combinations is a necessity of industrial war, which must be endured till the arrogance of capital is abated and a stop put to that thoughtless or wilful cruelty forever grinding the face of the poor. Be that as it may, it would be doing violence to all past and present Democratic orthodoxy if the party should fail to condemn, wherever it appears, the intoler- able invasion of natural rights in which one work- man, or a society of workingmen, undertakes to dictate to any individual whether or not he shall labor, and if he does so, on what terms and conditions. The great mission of the Republican party fin- ished, the query of those forecasting the future was, what characteristics would it have as a permanent factor in politics. As already stated, it sprang into being for an emergency. It was accidental, and was not born of permanent tendencies. It drew from existing parties, addressed itself to the task 58 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. before it, and achieved magnificent distinction. When its specific work was done, would it disband? If not, what course would it follow? It did not disband, nor is it likely to do so, though now in the popular minority. Its patriotic career and the ^clat of its successful conduct of the war naturally attracted to it the patriotic and duty-loving. It has often been said, and in many localities it was true, that it contained the greater part of the respectability of the population. It drew to itself at any rate the aristocracy. It has kept the aristocracy of wealth in large part, for reasons that will be mentioned presently. But beyond this it incorporated a great many of the old Federalist type, who did not dare to trust the people, but preferred to vest the governing powers in the higher classes, and consolidate them as much as possible in the Federal government. It is true that the Republicans demanded and secured negro suffrage, but that was against the conquered States and as hostages for their good behavior. The whole course of legislation during the recon- struction period was in the direction of centraliza- tion, which tendency was resisted by the Democrats, and finally aroused alarm in the Republican party itself, when the fear of militarism contributed not a little to defeat the nomination of President Grant for a third term. DEMOCRATIC AND REPUBLICAN F ARTIES. 59 It followed from the vast amount of construc- tive and reconstructive work to be accomplished under the leadership of the Republican majority, that its paternalism should become extended, and the party itself grow to be in a considerable degree socialistic instead of individualistic in its prevail- ing character. Those who think that men can be made moral by legislation, or that at least it is the duty of the state to try to make them so, find their political home in the Republican party. They have not been altogether satisfied there, as the rise of the Prohibitionists, for example, indicates ; but, no doubt, of the two great organizations the Republican suits them better. Those who are anxious to have the government undertake works of philanthropy, beneficence, or missionary evan- gelization are in somewhat the same category. In fine, people who hold that the state should by its government seek not merely the negative se- curity of the citizen but also his positive welfare, through positive acts of legislation, naturally be- long to and contribute their part to give tone to the Republican party. The socialistic notion that the government should act to promote the interests of individuals or classes has developed a policy which marks the chief difference between the two most conspicuous political divisions to-day. A protective tariff for 6o POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. the sake of protection as an economic measure, and a tariff for the exigencies of revenue only, are the leading propositions upon which the Republi- can and Democratic parties respectively stand be- fore the country, and have constituted the most important issue on which two presidential cam- paigns have been fought out. Without here enter- ing upon a discussion of these two policies, it is sufificient to observe that the attitude taken by the two parties on this question is quite consistent with the fundamental characteristics of each, and emphasizes the prominent traits of the one and the other. The Democratic party, to sum up, is the advo- cate, in principle, of the greatest amount of indi- vidual freedom consistent with security to the rights of all to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- ness. By this rule the office of government is to be limited, and no respect for its supposed sanctity is to permit it to transcend its proper limits. The party also is the opponent of aristocracy in any form, and a believer in the control of government by the masses of the common people. The Re- publican party upholds the policy of positive bene- ficence on the part of the government, not merely negative protection, and favors the extension of its activity to the promotion of industry by govern- ment assistance. It likewise is aristocratic in its DEMOCRATIC AND REPUBLICAN PARTIES. 6 1 tendencies, and disposed toward the concentration of governmental functions in the hands of those more favored in wealth, education, and social prom- inence. It has been said sometimes that the Democratic party is iconoclastic, and the Republican conserv- ative. This is no doubt true, in a sense. Social- istic movements are constructive, and the party opposing them necessarily will be occupied largely with pulling down their edifices. But if the pres- ervation of individual liberty, and of equality, be the aim, the iconoclasm may be like the destruc- tion of unhealthy buildings upon a suburban water-shed, with the result that a whole city may thereby be saved from disease. Mr. Buckle has well remarked : " Every great reform which has been effected has consisted not in doing some- thing new, but in undoing something old." Although I believe the foregoing characteriza- tions of the two great political parties in the United States are generally accurate, and display the woods, if not all the particular trees, it must not be supposed that, in either party, its avowed principles always control action, nor even that they are believed in by everybody. It often hap- pens that, both at general elections, in legislative and in executive action, party doctrines and plat- forms are wholly ignored or disrespectfully tram- 62 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. pled under foot. The Democratic legislature of 1893 in New York devoted itself very largely to attempts at interference with the local govern- ment of cities, and in some of these attempts it was flagrantly successful. For aberrations and inconsistencies in both parties alike, two causes are prominently discernible : one, the politician's natural desire for the success of his party over its antagonist ; and the other, that virus of private interest, to which reference has been made so fre- quently in the preceding pages. In the one case concessions are allowed to the ideas of special classes of doubtful voters, relying upon the faith- ful to support " the party, right or wrong." In the other instance, it may be a matter of bal- ancing one private interest against another, or of selling out principle for private gain. Such things occur more frequently in local elections, in State legislation, and in what may be called private con- gressional legislation. But, despite all unfaithful- ness and corruption, the two parties still represent principles to which they are tolerably constant. The interactions and interferences of public and private interests in the exercise of administrative functions can better be understood in the illustra- tion of Government by Syndicate, to which we now proceed. CHAPTER IX. TAMMANY HALL. \y Tammany Hall is the most perfectly con- structed and the most effective for its purposes of the so-called " machine " local organizations in the United States. It is the most conspicuous example of syndicate government to be found in the country. It is the most ancient society of the kind. It is the most powerful and the most suc- cessful. It is a local organization which has been always afifiliated with the Democratic party, though now and then rebelling against the regular candidates. For its independence it has some- times been thrown out of State and national coun- cils, but has always returned, been received, and even allowed to control the party. Probably no political organization has been so widely and thoroughly abused, none more sav- agely assailed as possessing all the political vices, none so little defended by political philosophers. Nevertheless, it has thrived on condemnation. Movements against it have been time and again inaugurated with no success, and in 1890 the most formidable combination ever made against the 6a politics in a democracy. present regime of Tammany was effected, and, after a vigorous campaign of " education," was defeated at the polls by a plurality of 23,199 out of a total of 216,252 votes.* Some excellent persons argue from this a complete and hopeless moral and civic degeneracy. It is always easy to charge social and political conditions upon sin and the devil; but this has generally been the special privilege of the clergy, and is an explana- tion surprising to find advanced by political thinkers. That the people are responsible to themselves for such a state of things, there is no manner of doubt. That for some years they have preferred, and still prefer, the government of Tammany Hall, is certainly evident. Such being the fact, the name of Tammany being so many times cited as typical of misrule must needs ex- cite wonder. Is it possible that the inhabitants of the greatest city in America are of the mind of that man in the barber's shop, who, on being told he needed shampooing, as his head was very dirty, briskly replied, " I like it so " ? The patent con- tradiction between the supremacy of Tammany Hall with the voters and the bad name attached to it very extensively throughout the country, demands a more careful examination of its meth- * Grant, Mayor (Tarn), 116,581 ; Scott (Combination), 93,382. TAMMANY HALL. 65 ods of action, its results, and its relations to the voters, than is usually accorded. It is clear to the most superficial observer that Tammany Hall is not within itself democratically conducted. It is not ruled by the masses who vote its tickets, nor by a majority of them. Its power emanates from a central nucleus, and is projected outward and downward. It must, in- deed, satisfy its followers to an extent sufficient to make them vote the ticket, but its methods of action are autocratic or aristocratic. Nevertheless, its sympathies are undeniably and unquestionably with the Democratic party and its principles. In character, in political ideas, in controlling senti- ments, the members of Tammany Hall are thor- ough Democrats. Here, then, we find illustra- tion of that anomaly referred to in Chapter VII., the remarkable case of an association of men of the most individualistic type, and favoring the most individualistic political principles, yet by the spirit of combination and organization consoli- dated into a hierarchy in which a half dozen per- sons have apparently almost absolute poAver. I say apparently, for, after all, the tenure of ofifice of the leaders depends upon their competence and good behavior. Their action must necessarily be more or less constrained ; but so long as they maintain their position their word is authoritative. 5 66 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. Counsel, indeed, they may take, but the votes that count are theirs. The central nucleus, of which I have just spoken, consists of an Executive Committee upon which is placed the leader of the party in each Assembly District. There are now thirty of such districts in the city of New York, each entitled by law to send one member to the State Assembly, or lower house of the legislature. The Assembly District is, hence, the political unit for calculation, as the dollar is for currency. The district leader is the chair- man of the General Committee of Tammany Hall in his district. This General Committee consists of an indefinite number of voters who constitute " the organization " in that district. The committee controls and regulates its own membership. Each district is, however, entitled only to a limited num- ber of votes in the whole committee. The commit- tee has its subordinate ofificers, and particularly its " Captains," one of each election district in the Assembly District, whose duties are to look after the interests of the regular candidates at elections, within their respective precincts. The total voting membership of the General Committee of Tam- many Hall for all the districts is in 1893 about 3,500; the whole membership about 11,440. The district leaders are not, as might at first be supposed, elected by their General Committees. TAMMANY HALL. 6/ They are selected and removed by the central authority at its pleasure. They make their re- ports to the Executive Committee, and are respon- sible to it for the interests of Tammany Hall in their respective districts. The committees in those districts they substantially control. Each leader is an originator of business at the committee meet- ings, like a government minister in the House of Commons. The committee ratifies by vote what he proposes, and he exercises a veto power over other action of the committee, like the setting aside of a verdict by a judge. The wise leader, however, avoids the appearance of dictation and is not overbearing, relying rather on the sentiment of loyalty which prevails to enable him to carry through the measures he desires. Thus, the com- mittee votes, but the chairman governs. The Executive Committee in its turn is subjected to centralizing influences. By a process of com- mon consenting its powers and authority become concentrated in a few men, who are not district leaders, but are made ex officio members of the committee on account of their prominence in the organization in general, occupying, as they gener- ally do, the chairmanships of important commit- tees. By still further consolidation that authority becomes practically vested in one man, who is acknowledged as the leader of the whole organi- 68 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. zation. While matters of importance are sub- mitted to and voted upon by the Executive Com- mittee, it generally happens that they are settled beforehand. The chief leader sends for and con- sults with as many members of the committee as he deems best, makes up his mind what is to be done, and passes the word, which is seldom disre- garded. The whole spirit of the organization is one of waiting for orders and readiness to obey them. Whatever be the forms of deciding by suffrage, it is the few who determine what the decision shall be. Of course this submission to the mandate of the leaders is voluntary. Nobody is obliged to belong to the organization. His rights will not be infringed nor his liberties be invaded if he is not a member of Tammany Hall, nor even if he be a decided opponent. And within the society there is nothing to prevent his opposing the powers that be. He does this at his own risk, however, and if not successful, will naturally lose favor. So long as Csesar reigns, it cannot be ex- pected that he will reward those plotting against his rule, or bring into prominence as a counsellor a man whose ideas he cannot adopt. But differ- ence of opinion, and the expression of it, are com- mon enough without any disfavor to anybody. Action, however, is crucial. In this, fidelity to TAMMANY HALL. 69 " the organization," as embodied in the decrees of the leaders, is required. It is the common senti- ment of the association, that its workings shall be on the principle of leaving the general manage- ment to a few, or even to one person, the rest obeying orders and submitting gracefully to what- ever is decreed. If, then, membership in Tam- many Hall is a slavery, it is servitude of the same nature as that of volunteer soldiers who place themselves under a captain and obey his com- mands, believing that in this way the battle can best be won. It is evident that leadership, in order to be maintained under such conditions, must be suc- cessful. Success means keeping the organization in ofificial power. This can only be done by secur- ing the requisite votes. The total vote in New York City in presidential election years has lately been as follows: 1892, 284,984; 1888, 269,204; 1884, 223,250. In 1890, which is the year in which a full combination of all factions was made against Tammany, we saw that the Tammany candidate, who was elected by 23,199 plurality, polled Ii6,- 581 votes out of 216,252. The total vote for governor in 1891 in New York City was 239,048. If the vote in 1890 be taken as an index of the voting strength of Tammany in a contest directed specifically against that organization, it will be 70 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. seen that in such case the society fails to secure a majority of the whole number of voters of the city. Of course no one can say how the absentees from the polls would have voted, but even if all voted the Tammany ticket (an almost impossible suppo- sition), the fact that they did not vote is signifi- cant. And although in 1892, when the Democratic opposition to Tammany had collapsed (the whole attention being also concentrated upon the presi- dential election), Mr. Gilroy, the Tammany candi- date for mayor, polled 173,510 out of a total of 284,984, the lesson of 1890 remains, which is, that the organization is not so secure but that wisdom and energy must be constantly employed to in- sure success. There are two chief ways in which this may be attained. In the first place, the stanch and faithful adherence of the organization to the State and national Democratic party is of the utmost con- sequence. Among the voters in New York City are many thousands who are Democrats in senti- ment, who always have been Democrats, as were their fathers before them, and who always will be Democrats. If, then, Tammany Hall, in national matters especially, is loyal to the Democratic party, it has a tremendous hold upon voters who, for the sake of its Democracy, will forgive it a multitude of municipal sins. In the presidential TAMMANY HALL. 71 campaign of 1892, in common with the rest of the regulaf organization of the party in the State, it found itself arrayed in most strenuous opposition to the will of the Democracy of the nation. It made its contest, was defeated, was forced to eat its own words, was humiliated and discredited. But, nevertheless, it accepted the situation, worked diligently and faithfully for the ticket, and on election day rolled up a magnificent vote for the national Democratic candidates. There is no doubt that Tammany Hall was greatly strengthened at home by this action, and gained an increased re- spect all over the country. The second requisite to success lies in its chosen field. It must furnish a good municipal adminis- tration. As to what constitutes excellence, opin- ions will differ widely. Whether or not a respect- able standard is reached, will always be a matter of antagonistic discussion. But at least its ad- ministration must be good enough to hold the voters to its support. Its leaders must either supply good government, or persuade the people that they are doing so. This they cannot do in the face of any very alarming derelictions. When- ever these have occurred, retribution has been swift and sure, as in the case of the Tweed ring. Although it must be mentioned, it would go without saying that in order to preserve efificiency 72 POLITICS m A DEMOCRACY. the organization itself must be kept healtliy. There are also two ways in which this may be accomplished. The first and most important is the judicious distribution of patronage, which is its bread and meat. But multitudinous as are the ofificial positions and employments in a great city, the demand always exceeds the supply. The ut- most tact in distribution must, therefore, be dis- played. There are many keen eyes on the watch for irregularities and inequalities. With thirty dis- trict leaders, all of whom are besieged with applica- tions for every kind of a position from a judgeship to that of crossing-sweeper, it is no easy task to apportion satisfactorily. If the followers are dissatisfied, the leader cannot control their votes. If the votes fall off conspicuously under his man- agement, he is cashiered at headquarters. Under such circumstances it may well be supposed that love and harmony do not always reign in " the wigwam." But here the necessity of a strong central authority becomes very clearly apparent. If it were not for this, the rivalries of the districts would disintegrate the organization. But by the habit established of accepting the decisions of the chiefs without rebellion, the leader's position is improved in the eyes of his constituents, and the solidarity of the association preserved. Another and very potent method of unifying TAMMANY HALL. 73 and amplifying the organization is on the social side. Collateral with the Tammany Hall political organization is the Tammany Society, which was established in 1789 for benevolent and social purposes. From this society is taken the quaint Indian nomenclature applied to Tammany digni- taries. It is from this society, too, that the chiefs of the political organization spring, and upon and around it the social auxiliaries are focussed. The social development of Tammany latterly has been very decidedly increased. Every district has its headquarters always open for social purposes. Most of the districts have club houses, some of which are exceedingly comfortable and elegant, with bowling alleys, billiards, card and smoking rooms, cafds, and all the usual accommodations, furnished at a very low rate of dues. Here the meetings of the General Committee are held, and every evening there is a greater or less attendance of members, who talk nothing if not politics. In addition, there are many special social oc- casions in which the families of the voters take part. Dances, balls, picnics, excursions, outings of all sorts are frequently devised, and are almost invariably successful. That the social enthusiasm thus aroused is a valuable help in the way of strengthening the political power of Tammany Hall, cannot be doubted. In this connection it 74 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. may be stated that there is exercised no little amount of active benevolence in the different districts by officials and those who hope to be ; who, though their motives may be selfish, are surely entitled to some credit for their practical philanthropy. CHAPTER X. THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. The Tammany Society, organized in 1789, was established by William Mooney, an Irish-Ameri- can, as a benevolent order of a fraternal character. The political organization, formed by the same set of people, and as collateral to the Tammany Society, was begun in 1800. In 1812 the political influence of the organization for that purpose became conspicuous. It was supported by local business men of good character and standing. In those days it appears to have concerned itself with the morals of the community, for in 1817 the society issued an address deploring the spread of the foreign game of billiards among the young men of the upper classes ! The General Com- mittee of Tammany Hall appeared in 1822, and consisted of thirty-three members. In 1836 the Committee numbered seventy-five. The present Assembly District organization did not occur till 1871. In 1834 Tammany became dominant in city politics, and has since continued so in the main, with occasional defeats, some of a severe character, as that by Mozart Hall in 1859. B"* 76 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. out of fifty years of mayors, Tammany has held the mayoralty thirty-two years.* Tammany has generally found its voting strength among what may be termed the lower middle class. Unquestionably it has always drawn the sympathies of the lower classes generally, rather than the upper — the masses of plain, common, poor people, whom, it is said, God must love because he made so many of them. Those who work with their hands for daily wages, if they are of the Democratic persuasion, are very likely to be Tammany men. In the earlier times there was a substantial alliance between the Hall and the business community. At a later date, " business men's " and " citizens' " movements generally have been against Tammany. The liquor-deal- ers have for the most part been on the side of Tammany, on personal liberty, anti sumptuary law principles. No doubt their influence has carried with it the sympathy of those in the community who find their social life in the saloons. Since the city is overwhelmingly Democratic, and Tam- many Hall the largest Democratic faction, and now the only one, it is easy to argue that all * These facts are taken from a^-'«rticle entitled " Tammany Hall," by Talcott Williams, in " Lalor's Cyclopedia of Political Knowledge," and an " Historical Sketch of Tammany Hall," by Hon. Nelson Smith (iSg2). THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 77 the liquor-drinkers, bummers, loafers, toughs, and actual or would-be criminals belong to Tammany, and control its policy. But no more of this class, relatively, are Tammany adherents than are Republicans. If we take any ward of the city in which the lowest classes of voters preponderate, we shall find that, in proportion to the total vote of the two parties with respect to each other, there are just as many Republican " toughs " as there are Tammany "toughs." Toughness /^r se does not make a person a Tammany man. Demo- cratic ideas will make people Democrats ; and if a man, being a Democrat, has toughness added unto him, it is not his toughness but his Democ- racy that makes him join Tammany ; or it may be his hope to get more from the dominant party than from the other — but it is not alone toughs who are actuated by this motive. In short, Tammany Hall has relatively no more voters from the idle, semi-criminal, and criminal classes than come from the preponderance of the Democratic vote in the whole population, and the fact that Tammany is the only or the chief Democratic organization. It never has been considered an objection to a man in the Tammanj^Mganization, that he hap- pens to be an Irishman. One of the earlier objects of the association was to see that foreign- 78 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. born citizens were not ostracized from political office ; and this aroused a good deal of antipathy on the part of those who favored a " native- American " or " Know-Nothing " policy, of put- ting in office none but native-born citizens. The dislikes arising from this cause have not yet died out. But whatever the opposition, the sentiment of the organization has not changed, and Irish or Irish-Americans (in nativity) have generally formed the controlling power in Tammany Hall. Home Tooke, I think it was, propounded an argument that " the being an Irishman " was the cause of republicanism in an individual, meaning by republicanism a democratic spirit. While we can scarcely ascribe to Irish immigrants the for- mation of American democracy, they certainly have done their share in managing it since it was established, sometimes for better, sometimes for worse, but always with energy and skill, displaying to a remarkable degree that knowl- edge of human nature so necessary to the practi- cal politician. The German element in the Tammany host is by no means an inconsiderable one, and has lat- terly been increasing. It has a good representa- tion in the councils of the organization, and its vote is intelligent and loyal. The Hebrews are well represented ; the French and Italians also. THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 79 Among all the foreign-born population or their immediate descendants, Tammany, has an influ- ential share of voters. It will greatly aid the reader to form an idea of the sources of the regular Tammany vote, which may be depended on in case of emergency, if we give a rdsumd of the different Assembly Districts, showing the character of their population, and the Tammany vote as compared with the total for mayor in the election of 1890, when the last com- bination of anti-Tammany forces was made, and attention especially directed to local issues.* First Assembly District. — Business portion of the city below Canal Street west of Broadway and below Spruce Street on the east. Immigrant hotels, poor tenements ; many janitors and watch- men. Irish, Germans, Scandinavians, mingled with native Americans. Total vote, 5,057; Grant, Tammany, 3,320; Opposition, \ 1,737. All the election districts were carried for Grant. Second District. — South of Canal Street and east of Broadway, south of Catharine Street to Spruce. Tenements and factories, the former * For valuable assistance in preparing this risums I am indebted to Hon. Charles G. Wilson, President of the Board of Health. f Including scattering, blank, and defective ballots. 8o POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. of a very poor quality ; sailors' boarding-houses and cheap lodging-houses. Very poor people. Large Italian colony ; many Chinese and Japan- ese ; many Jews, particularly Polish ; Irish and natives gradually diminishing. Total vote, 5,870 ; Grant, 4,528 ; Opposition, 1,342. All the election districts were for Grant. Third District. — Between Broadway and the Bowery and Third Avenue, above Canal Street and below East Twenty-third Street. Business property and residence intermingled, the latter of poor quality in lower part and fair and good above Bleecker Street. Tenements and boarding- houses abound. In the lower part there are many Italians, rag-pickers and scavengers ; in the middle portions Italians, Irish, Germans ; in the upper streets, Irish and natives. This is a very mixed district, both as regards population and the character of the buildings. Total vote, 5,756; Grant, '^,^77 ; Opposition, 2,179. It is interesting to notice that in the election districts below Great Jones Street, Grant polled 2,276 votes, while his opponent, Scott, received 816 ; whereas in the districts above. Grant polled 1,301 to Scott's 1,279; while in the seven election districts north of Fourteenth Street, Grant's vote was only 673 to Scott's 1,041. Scott carried six election districts out of twenty-six. THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 8 1 Fourth District.— The East River front south of Division and Grand Streets and north of Catharine. Tenements and middle-class dwell- ings. Irish, Russian Jews, and natives. Total vote, 8,029 ; Grant, 5,243 ; Opposition, 2,786. The vote ran very evenly through the different election districts. It may be assumed that this is the case except where special mention is made. Scott carried one election district out of thirty-seven. Fifth District. — West side of Broadway be- tween Canal on the south, Houston and Bleecker Streets on the north. Business property, tene- ments, and small dwellings. The " French quar- ter ; " also many Italians and negroes ; natives in the western part. Total vote, 5,492; Grant, 3,317; Opposition, 2,175. In one election district only did Scott receive a plurality (127 to Grant's 124). This was the sixth, bounded by Hudson, Broome, Dominick, and Clark Streets. Sixth District. — East of Norfolk Street, and between Rivington and Stanton on the north, and Grand and Jackson Streets on the south. Tene- ments and factories. Germans very largely, Jews and natives. Total vote, 7,159; Grant, 3,885; Opposition, 3,274. Scott obtained a small plurality in six 6 82 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. election districts in the eastern portion of the Assembly District. Seventh District. — West of Broadway be- tween Bleecker Street and West Twenty-third Street, extending to the west irregularly as far as Sixth Avenue (at the south end), West Fourth Street, Eighth Avenue, Sixteenth Street, and thence Seventh Avenue to Twenty-third Street. Below Fourteenth Street this includes business property, tenements, small residences, and many boarding-houses ; below Washington Square, bus- iness blocks, cheap boarding-houses, a portion of the French quarter. Above V/ashington Square east of Sixth Avenue, and below Fourteenth Street, fine residences and business houses. Above Fourteenth Street the cross streets are fine residence streets and the avenues devoted to business. The inhabitants south of Washington Square are largely French, Italians, and negroes ; north, natives and Irish ; eastern portion, many wealthy citizens ; western part, well-to-do people of middle class. Total vote, 7,393; Grant, 3,119; Opposition, 4,274. In this district we find the situation re- versed. Grant received a plurality in only eight out of thirty election districts. These were the first and second (south of Washington Square), in which the vote was, respectively, Scott, 100, THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 83 Grant, 104; Scott, 65, Grant, 127. Also the four- teenth, the triangle between Greenwich Avenue, West Eleventh and West Tenth Streets ; Scott, 106, Grant, 129. Also the nineteenth, between Sixth and Seventh Avenues and Eleventh and Thirteenth Streets : Scott, 123, Grant, 125. Also the twenty-third (S., 85, G., 115) and twenty- fourth (S., 147, G., 166), between Fifth and Seventh Avenues and Fourteenth and Eighteenth Streets. Also two districts directly north of these last, one of them reaching to Twenty-third Street (twenty-seventh : Scott, 54, Grant, 107 ; twenty-eighth : Scott, 107, Grant, 149). Eighth District. — East of the Bowery as far as Norfolk Street, between Stanton and Division Streets. Large crowded tenements. Foreign pop- ulation, very largely Hebrews, and some Germans. Total vote, 6,257; Grant, 3,696; Opposition, 2,561. Scott received a plurality in no election district. Ninth District. — On the North River, from West Houston to West Sixteenth Street, extend- ing on the east to the line of West Fourth Street. Formerly Greenwich Village. Small houses, tene- ments, and middle-class dwellings. Inhabitants include many old residents, some Irish, and Ger- mans. Total vote, 8,006; Grant, 4,312; Opposition, 84 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. 3,694. Scott received a plurality in ten out of thirty-seven election districts. Tenth District. — East of the Bowery as far as Avenue B, between Stanton and Eighth Streets. Tenements, boarding-houses, and some private houses. A distinctively German neigh- borhood. Total vote, 8,672 ; Grant, 4,400 ; Opposition, 4,272. Scott had a plurality in fourteen out of forty-five election districts ; most of the remain- der were close. Eleventh District. — Between Twenty-third and Fortieth Streets and Seventh and Lexington Avenues. A " brown-stone " district. Fine ho- tels, business blocks, theatres, and elegant private residences, homes of wealthy citizens. West of Sixth Avenue, however, poor tenements ; many negroes and Irish. Total vote, 5,313; Grant, 1,737; Opposition, 3,576. Grant received a plurality in no election district. His largest vote was 141 to Scott's 172 in the eleventh district, which is west of Sixth Avenue between Thirtieth and Thirty-second Streets. His smallest was 41 to Scott's 202 in the seventeenth district, which is west of Sixth Avenue between Thirty-fourth and Thirty-sixth Streets. Twelfth District.— Between Avenue B and THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 85 the East River, and between Stanton and East Eleventh Streets. Tenements, factories, gas- houses. Inhabitants mostly Germans ; a few Bo- hemians, Hungarians, and Poles. Total vote, 6,810; Grant, 3,042; Opposition, 3,768. Scott's vote was 3,381, and 278 were cast for August Delabar, Labor candidate. Scott received a plurality in twenty out of thirty-five election districts. Grant's strength was between Houston and Stanton Streets and between Ave- nues B and C, the southern and southwestern part of the district. Thirteenth District. — West of Seventh Avenue between Sixteenth and Twenty-sixth Streets. Stores, tenements, and largely private houses. Formerly Chelsea Village. Inhabitants old residents, natives and Irish. Along the river front, poorer class of population ; east of that, well-to-do people. Total vote, 8,231 ; Grant, 3,981 ; Opposition, 4,250. Scott carried fifteen election districts out of thirty-six. Grant carried districts lying along Sixteenth and Seventeenth Streets, three or four along Seventh Avenue, and five lying between Eighth and Tenth Avenues and north of Twenty- fourth Street. Grant also carried the twentieth district (128 to 120), which contains a large apart- ment house, "The Chelsea," inhabited by voters 86 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. of very superior intelligence and highly moral character. Fourteenth District. — East of Third Av- enue to the East River, and between Eighth and Eleventh Streets on the south and Fourteenth on the north. Tenements, lodging-houses, board- ing-houses, and some private houses. Inhabi- tants largely Germans, with Hungarians and natives. Total vote, 5,862 ; Grant, 3,233 ; Opposition, 2,629. Scott received a plurality in only four out of twenty-eight election districts. Fifteenth District. — West of Seventh Av- enue and between West Twenty-sixth and West Fortieth Streets. Tenements and private houses, with fat-rendering establishments, slaughter-houses, and factories along and near the North River. Many good residences, but also many very poor tenements. Inhabitants Irish and natives, also negroes. Total vote, 9,211; Grant, 5,074; Opposition, 4,137. Scott carried eight out of forty-five elec- tion districts, all but one lying together between Seventh and Eighth Avenues between Thirty- second and Fortieth Streets. Sixteenth District. — East of Third Avenue to the East River, between Fourteenth and Twenty-sixth Streets. Tenements and private THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 8/ houses, factories and gas-works. Germans and Irish largely ; laboring class of people. Total vote, 7,365 ; Grant, 4,391 ; Opposition, 2,974. Scott received a plurality in only two out of thirty-six election districts. Seventeenth District. — West of Seventh Avenue and between Fortieth and Fifty-second Streets. Factories and rendering establishments along the river front ; farther east, tenements and private residences ; middle-class residence neigh- borhood. Many Irish and negroes ; also native population. Total vote, 11,246; Grant,- 6,274; Opposition, 4,972. Scott had a plurality in ten out of fifty- one election districts. Eighteenth District. — East of Lexington Avenue between Twenty-sixth and Forty-second Streets. Tenements and private houses. Slaugh- ter-houses, gas-works, and factories near the river. Irish, Germans, and native population. Total vote, 8,276 ; Grant, 4,989 ; Opposition, 3,287. Scott polled a plurality in only one out of forty-two election districts. Nineteenth District. — From Fifty-second Street, along the west side of Central Park to Spuyten Duyvil. Apartment houses, tenements, family hotels, private houses. Many fine resi- dences, homes of wealthier class. Poor tene- 88 POLITICS IN A DEMOCRACY. ments near the river. Native population largely ; some Irish and Germans. Total vote, 19,715; Grant, 9,694; Opposition, 10,021. The vote for Scott, however, was only 9,508, there being 156 blank and defective ballots, and the rest being cast for Labor and Prohibition candidates. Out of sixty-nine election districts Grant carried thirty-eight. Scott's strength was mainly between Sixty-eighth and One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Streets, in the fine residence neighborhood west of Central Park. Twentieth District. — East of Lexington Av- enue between Forty-second and Fifty-ninth Streets. Tenements, flats, private houses. Germans, Irish, and native population of the working classes. Total vote, 8,387; Grant, 5,081 ; Opposition, 3,306. Scott carried no election district. Twenty-first District. — Between Third and Sixth Avenues, Fortieth and Eighty-sixth Streets. Fine residence neighborhood, except on the east bordering on the railroad. Hotels, apartment houses, and homes of wealthiest resi- dents. Total vote, 8,063; Grant, 2,855; Opposition, 5,208. Out of twenty-seven election districts Grant carried only two. These were the ninth (143 to 96), between Fifth and Sixth Avenues and Fifty-first and Fifty-fifth Streets; the fif- THE SUPPORTERS OF TAMMANY HALL. 89 teenth (147 to 119), between Lexington and Fifth Avenues, Fiftieth and Fifty-third Streets. Twenty-second District. — East of Lexing- ton Avenue and between Fifty-ninth and Ninety- first Streets. Tenements and private houses. Factories along river front. Population native, German, Bohemian, Irish, German Jews; foreign population predominating. Total vote, 17,888 ; Grant, 9,632 ; Opposition, 8,256. Scott's vote was 7,146 ; 864 votes were cast for the Labor candidate. Scott carried twelve out of seventy-five election districts. Twenty-third District. — North of Ninety- first Street and east of Seventh Avenue. A very mixed district. On the east side and southerly, tenement property, poor class of dwellings, facto- ries ; on the west and north sides, good business property and fine residences. Population on the west side native ; on the east, Germans, Jews, and a large Italian colony. Total vote, 21,076; Grant, 10,676; Opposition, 10,400. There were cast for Scott 9,671 ballots, and 393 for the Labor candidate. Out of eighty- one election districts Scott received a plurality in but twenty-three. Of these, seventeen are located north of One Hundred and Fifteenth Street, and most of them near Mt. Morris Park and north- ward along Seventh, Lenox, and Fifth Avenues.

self-satisfying condition of life, the only substan^ tial guarantee of peace and order in the com- munity. Thus, because man is so made and the worlc so constituted, it is universally true that not onlj. he who is willing to be a good citizen and wishes his neighbors to be, but he who desires to get out of life the best there is in it, must so act that he can sincerely and truthfully say : " Mine be the love that in itself can find Seed of white thoughts, the lilies of the mind — Seed of that glad surrender of the will That finds in service self's true purpose still."* * Lowell : " Endymion." CRITICAL NOTICES. A SYSTEM OF PSYCHOLOGY. BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON, 2 vols., 8vo, 1226 pages. The Leeds {England) Mercury. This is a very comprehensive and important work. The Journal of Mental Science {England). Mr, Thompson's work accomplishes its aim in a very successful manner. The book may without hesitation be pronounced a g-ood one. The Edinburgh Scotsman. In the seventy-five chapters of these bulky volumes a more detailed and systematic account is given of the genesis and development of states of consciousness than can be found in any other single work in the language. Mr. Thompson is an accomplished and earnest searcher after truth. The N. V. Popular Science Mofithly. It is undoubtedly the raost important contribution to psychological science that any American has yet produced ; nor is there any foreign work with which wc are acquainted that contains so exhaustive, so instructive, and well presented a digest of the subject as this. The Academy {England). Mr. Thompson's treatise, though named A System of Psychology .^ is in reality, in outline at least, a system of philosophy. While following the most plainly marked track in the fields of English thought, Mr. Thompson is independent, and now and again impressively original. The Contemporary Review {England). Mr. Thompson is an acute and careful observer himself, and a systematic student of the results put forward by other workers. The author has amply made good the modest claim he puts forward for himself as an independent student.— A. Seth. Mind {England). The passages that have been referred to must, of course, be taken merely as specimens of Mr. Thompson's contributions to psychology, not as a complete account of all that he has done ; but they are sufficient to show that if he has not systematized the science from any new point of view, he has at least carried the analytical methods of the older psychology further in various directions. Nature (^England). In criticising any new book, we ought to ask whether the author has made any advance on his immediate predecessors. We ought, in fact, to apply to the particular author we are criticising the test of progress to which psychology as a whole maybe submitted. Mr. Thompson's book will emerge successfully from an examination such as that which is here suggested. In dealing with many special questions he goes beyond the later English psychologists, just as they themselves have gone beyond Locke. We may conclude by saying that, although in some respects an unequal book, it is decidedly an important contribution of America to the treatment of psychology on the lines with which English readers are most familiar. The Index {Boston^ Mass.). It is recognized as a standard work at once. {First notice) This work proves the author to be a man of large intellectual grasp, of keen critical and analytical ability, and at the same time of large construct- ive power and capacity for generalization, of ample acquaintance with philosophy and literature. One need not assent to all that Mr. Thompson advances in order to appreciate his robust thought, his masterly reasoning, his clear, strong style and truly philosophic spirit. {Second notice) It is without doubt the most profound, extensive, and original work on psychology that this country has produced. {Third notice .) Revue Philosophigue {Paris). We consider that Mr. Thompson has rendered a great service to psychol- ogista in undertaking to systematize results actually attained ; he has suc- ceeded in presenting them in clear and precise form ; he has in many places added useful information, and the reading of his work is eminently su<^- gestive. It seems to us, above all, that he has the great merit of producing a work almost entirely psychological.— F. Pica. vet. THE PROBLEM OF EVIL. BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON. 8vo., 281 pages. Tke yournal 0/ Education {England). Mr, Thompson has already made a name for himself as a psychologist, and he handles the questions of moral science with an acuteness which will sus- tain his reputation. The N. v. Popular Science Monthly. A multitude of the pressing problems of our social life are suggested and discussed in this compact volume with such frankness, sincerity, ability, and good feeling that we can heartily commend it not only to the professional scholar, but to all thoughtful men and women. The Open Court {Chicago, III.). The style of our author is admirably clear, and the general tone of the discussion, covering, as it does, a wide range of practical questions which are uppermost in the thought of millions at the present day, will doubtless secure for Mr. Thompson's book a wide circle of intelligent readers. The Guardian {England). We admire his [the author^s] originality and analytical power, his obvious desire to be true to facts, his almost omnivorous tastes in literature, and, above all, his extreme modesty and self-effacement. Even when we come to the end and remember that we disagree with his first principles, there remains with us a consciousness of much that is true and some things which are new, while in lucidity of exposition and fearlessness of statement Mr. Thompson reminds us' more of John Stuart Mill than of any other of his chosen leaders. Knowledge {England). Mr. Thompson, in the very able and important work before us, investi- gates the nature and origin of evil, and essays to point out the most hopeful means for its elimination. He discusses at length the suggested methods (social, political, and ecclesiastical) for reducing evil to a mini- mum, which have been and are still advanced, and shows trenchantly the fallacies which underlie them all. , We will not diminish the pleas- ure with which the reader will peruse this volume, by any more detailed analysis of its contents ; suffice it to say that Mr. Thompson has made a real and enduring contribution to ethical philosophy. THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS OF THE HUMAN MIND. BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON. 8vo, 184 pages. The Popular Science Monthly {New York). In the volume before us Mr. Thompson has entered upon a fruitful field of thought and discussion; one, moreover, which requires great tact and delicacy in its cultivation, if the author would secure the sympathetic and respectful attention of his readers. In this respect, Mr. Thompson has been notably successful. His treatment of his topic is calm, temperate, philosophical, free from bias, appealing to reason rather than to theological or anti-theological prejudices. While his discussion of the religious prob- lem is entirely frank, manly, and unconventional, it is also duly considerate of those conceptions which he is compelled to discredit and oppose. The book, as a whole, stimulates thought and holds the attention of the reader. In connection with '' ASystemof Psychology" and "The Problem of Evil," it justifies us in ranking its author among our ablest philosophical thinkers. The Manchester {England) Exafniner. Readers of the more thoughtful type who are acquainted with Mr. Daniel Greenleaf Thompson's " System of Psychology," and his very suggestive treatment of " The Problem of Evil," will extend a hearty welcome to his new work. Though his work cannot be compared with the recent magnificent contribution to the literature of the same great theme by Dr. James Martineau, it is full of acute, sound, and penetrating thought. Of the four sections into which the book is divided, perhaps the second . is the richest in interest ; but the work, from first to last, is well worthy of careful study. Mind, Mr. Thompson's present work is a study of the science, not of religions as they exist or have existed, but of religion as a general fact of conscious experience. His aim is rather to determine what beliefs can rationally be held about the supernatural than to describe the process by which the super- natural comes to be believed in ; though, in accordance with his tradi- tional view of philosophic method, he makes an investigation of this prelim- inary to his determination of the limits of rational belief, and more generally bases his religious philosophy on his previous work in psychology and ethics. SOCIAL PROGRESS. BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON. 8vo, 182 pages. New York Times. There is a matter of exceeding interest to be found in this volume, which is a cool and dispassionate analysis of human actions. Boston Transcript. The book is full of meat for thoughtful readers. . . We commend it to the reading of every man who wishes to see the way clearer to political and social reform in our own country. Edinburgh Scotsman. An admirable, clear, and logical exposition of those principles which are now generally recognized as the essential conditions of national and individual well being. Science. The author's style is clear and flowing, so that the book is easy and agreeable to read ; and there is much in it that thinkers of all schools will agree with . The Epoch. Mr. Thompson shows great analytical power, clearness of statement, moderateness of view, and frequently originality. This book might well "96 read by every American citizen, for even old thoughts are put in a for- cible, and often original, way. T/ie Christian Union. The best part of Mr. Thompson's book is that in w^hich he discusses moral and religious ideas. He urges the duty of intellectual hospitality, and himself recognizes it in his treatment of Christian ideas which he does not accept. He urges upon Christian people a willingness to let those who differ with them in faith unite with them in good works, reminding them of the Scripture teaching that those who "do the will " shall "know the doctrine. A merican Hebrew. An important and valuable contribution to political science. He evinces a masterly logical equipment. His eduction of the principles of liberty and equality is certainly to be classed with the very best specimens of close reasoning upon abstract subjects. Mr. Thompson has contributed a worthy addition to the literature of philosophical thought ; his speculative genius is profound and broad enough to give him high rank not only among the few elect thinkers in America, but among the acutest metaphysicians of our time. THE PHILOSOPHY OF FICTION IN LITERATURE. BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON. i2mo, 226 pages. Scottish Leader. A thougfetful and conscientious attempt to state a theory of the novel. Sheffield and Rotherhehn Independent (England). A book which cannot fail to attract and edify. London Tiines. Those who like reading books about books will find much to interest and instruct them. Sunday Times (England). The author knows his subject exceedingly well, and many of his crit- icisms are just and luminous. National Observer (England). The book is short, but it contains not only nearly all there was to be said about fiction as a fine art, but perhaps most of the good things about it which were worth repeating. The Scotsman (Edinburgh), The essay displays the same ability as is shown in this writer's contribu- tions to psychology and ethical philosophy. The Academy (England). His criticisms of M. Zola's method, from the purely artistic point of view, as a method which sacrifices vital truth by ignoring the perspective of life, are admirable and, it seems to us, unanswerable. The Neiv York Herald. The book is a thoughtful and fair analysis of novels and novel readers, and a body of wise counsel as to what a book should contain besides a story. The New York Tribtmc. Mr. Thompson, in his ingenious and carefully-written essay, takes views of the philosophy of fiction with which we find ourselves in the main accordant. The New York Times. Mr. Thompson is perfectly familiar with a wide range of fiction, in English and French at least, and his illustrations are always apt. The Cojuniercial Advertiser. The author is a philosopher who uses philosophy, not to promulgate pre- conceived theories, but to discover basal truths and to formulate correct hypotheses. His freedom from doctrinal bias puts him in the same mental attitude with the popular reader. To such a reader the results he has attained will seem reasonable, indeed would seem axiomatic were they not often contradicted or disregarded by doctrinaires. Public opinion (New York). The author has contributed to the discussion of fiction in this volume in a very suggestive and valuable way. . His work is clear, compre- hensive, sensible, and helpful. The Critic. His task he has w^ell performed; his method is free from pedantry, his attitude moderate and judicial. The Christian Union. Mr. Thompson is a very thoughtful v/riter who makes his appeal directly to thoughtful readers, . . One of the most interesting chapters, and one of the most suggestive in the volume, is that on " Realism and Ideal- ism," a chapter full of good sense, clear judgment, and excellent critical insight. It is impossible not to recognize at every point the candor of his temper and the catholicity of his spirit. The Independent. Mr. Thompson, we are glad to see, has no sympathy with the demoral- izing faction for whom morality ends where art begins. . . His dis- cussion of the question is bold, sincere, liberal, and broad. The Brooklyn Eagle. The work done by Mr. Thompson can scarcely be too-hlghly valued. The Beacon (Boston). The book will be read to advantage by those who are concerned with the consumption, as well as with the production, of current novels and romances, and it holds up an artistic ideal which in these degenerate days is too often lost sight of. The Boston Globe. Mr. Thompson reaches the purest definition of the art and the purpose of fiction, and has something worth saying about it ; something indeed that will refine the taste of all who listen to him. It is pleasant to follow him, for his thought is clean-cut and simple in expression. The Traveller {Boston). This book will be found to possess permanent literary value. The Atnericaii ( BaltiTJiore ) . It is a concise, trenchant work, and the author has expressed himself, regardless of opinion, either favorable or otherwise. The Chicago Inter-Ocean. Mr. Thompson's work is replete with fine thought, the tone is elevated, and the style that of a scholar and a writer of taste. The Herald (Chicago). Mr. Thompson has written a work of supreme excellence, w^hich cannot fail to be of value to every student of literature, no matter what his special vocation in that line may be. The Dial (Chicago ) . No more important contribution to literary criticism has been found in recent years than the essay, etc. It is clean-cut, sensible (no mean praise), unprejudiced, sound. It treats plainly, yet justly, questions which the novelists or their admirers can never handle without showing the bias of a school. It is never dogmatic, never vacillating, yet is just to each and every coterie of fiction-producers.