Then, again, the American people are made up of the world's boldest

spirits and the descendants of such. The Puritans, who gave force,

direction, and elevation to our national thought and purpose, were the

stoutest hearts, the most productive minds of their time. Their

characteristics have not disappeared from their children.

The same is true, generally, but of course in an infinitely lesser

degree, of most of our immigrants. Usually it is the nervy and

imaginative men who go to a new country. Our own pioneers were endowed

with daring and vision. They had the courage and initiative to leave

the scarcely warmed beds of their new-made homes and push farther on

into the wilderness.

The blue-eyed, light-haired Swede who, among all in his little

Scandinavian village, decides to come to America, the Irishman who

does the like, are, for the most part, the hopeful, venturesome,

self-reliant members of their communities across the sea. The German

who turns his face from the Fatherland, seeking a new home half across

the world, brings us some of the most vigorous blood in the Kaiser's

Empire. Such men believe in better things--have the will to try to get

those better things.

Thus, the American Republic is an absorbent of the optimism of the

world. We attract to ourselves the children of faith and hope among

the common people of other nations. And these are the types we are

after. They are the most vital, the least exhausted. I should not want

"the flower" of other nations to immigrate to our shores. Nature is

through with them, and they must be renewed from below. Do not object

to human raw material for our citizenship. One or two generations will

produce the finished product.

What says Emerson:

"The lord is the peasant that was,

The peasant the lord that shall be.

The lord is hay, the peasant grass,

One dry and one the living tree."

The purpose of our institutions is to manufacture manhood.

Make it impossible for the criminal and diseased, the vicious and the

decadent, to come to us; bar out those who seek our country merely

because they cannot subsist in their own, and you will find that the

remainder of our immigrants are valuable additions to our populations.

Don't despise these common people who come to us from other lands.

Don't despise the common people anywhere on earth. The Master did not

go to the "first citizens" for His followers. He selected the

humblest. He chose fishermen. A promoter of a financial enterprise

does not do this. But the Saviour was not a promoter; He was teacher,

reformer, Redeemer.

Then, too, consider our imperial location on the globe. If all the

minds of all the statesmen who ever lived were combined into one vast

intellect of world-wisdom, and if this great composite brain should

take an eternity to plan, it could not devise a land better located

for power and world-dominance than the American Republic.

On the east is Europe, with an ocean between. This ocean is a highway

for commerce and a fluid fortress for defense, an open gateway of

trade and a bulwark of peace.

On the west is the Orient, with its multitude of millions. Between

Asia and ourselves is again an ocean. And again this ocean is an

invitation to effort and a condition of safety.

The Republic is thus enthroned between the two great oceans of the

world. Its seat of power commands both Europe and Cathay.

On the north is slowly building a great people, developing a dominion

as imperial as our own. The same speech and blood of kinship make

certain the ultimate union with our vital brothers across our northern

frontier.

To the south is a group of governments over whom the sheer operation

of natural forces is already establishing a sort of American oversight

and suzerainty.

Mark, now, our harbors. Behold how cunningly the Master Strategist has

placed along our coasts great ports from which communication with the

ends of earth naturally radiates.

Consider, too, the sweep of the ocean's currents in relation to this

country. Observe the direction and effect of the Gulf Stream, and of

the great current of the Pacific seas upon our coasts. Follow on your

map the direction of our rivers, and see how nicely Nature has

designed the tracery of the Republic's waterways.

In short, ponder over the incomparable position of this America of

yours--this home and country of yours--on the surface of the globe.

When you think of it, not only will your mind be uplifted in pride,

but you will sink to your knees in prayerful gratitude that the Father

has given you such a land, with such opportunities, for your earthly

habitation.

Attempt now to estimate our resources. Your mathematics are not equal

to it. The available productivity of the Mississippi Valley exceeds

the supply of all the fertile regions of fable or history. The country

watered by the Columbia or the Oregon surpasses in wealth-producing

power the valleys of the Nile or the Euphrates in ancient times.

Our deposits of coal and iron already under development are equalled

nowhere on earth except perhaps by the unopened mines of China; and

greater fields of ore and fuel than those which we are now working are

known positively to exist within our dominions. The mere indexing of

America's material possibilities well-nigh stuns credulity.

But all these are definite and physical things, things you can measure

or weigh. More valuable than all of these combined are our American

institutions and our exalted National ideals.

You can meditate all day on the reasons for pride in your Americanism,

and each reason you think of will suggest others. The examples I have

given are only hints. Be proud of your Americanism,

therefore--earnestly, aggressively, fervently proud of your Americanism.

I like to see patriotism have a religious ardor. It will put you in

harmony with the people you are living among, which, I repeat, is the

first condition of success.

Also it puts a vigor, manliness, mental productivity into you. Make it

a practise, when going to your business or your work each morning, to

reflect how blessed a thing it is to be an American, and why it is a

blessed thing. Then observe how your backbone stiffens as you think,

how your step becomes light and firm, how the very soul of you floods

with a kind of sunlight of confidence.

There was a time when each one of that masterful race that lived upon

the Tiber's banks in the days of the Eternal City's greatest glory

believed that "to be a Roman was greater than to be a king." And the

ideals of civic duty were more nearly realized in that golden hour of

human history than they had ever been before--or than they have ever

been since until now.

Very well, young man. If to be a Roman then was greater than to be a

king, what is it to be an American now?

Think of it! To be an American at the beginning of the twentieth

century!

Ponder over these eleven words for ten minutes every day. After a

while you will begin to appreciate your country, its institutions,

and the possibilities which both produce.

Realizing, then, that you are an American, and that, after all, this

is a richer possession than royal birth, make up your mind that you

will be worthy of it, and then go ahead and be worthy of it.

Be a part of our institutions. And understand clearly what our

institutions are. They are not a set of written laws. _American

institutions are citizens in action._ American institutions are the

American people in the tangible and physical process of governing

themselves.

A book ought to be written describing how our government actually

works. I do not mean the formal machinery of administration and

law-making at Washington or at our state capitals. These multitudes of

officers and groups of departments, these governors and presidents,

these legislatures and congresses, are not the government; they are

the instruments of government.

_The people are the government._ What said Lincoln in his greatest

utterance? "A government of the people, for the people, _and by the

people_," are the great American's words. And Lincoln knew.

The real thing is found at the American fireside. This is the forum of

both primary and final discussion. These firesides are the hives

whence the voters swarm to the polls. The family is the American

political unit. Men and measures, candidates and policies, are there

discussed, and their fate and that of the Republic determined. This is

the first phase of our government, the first manifestation of our

institutions.

Then comes the machinery through which these millions of homes "run

the government." I cannot in the limited space of this paper describe

this system of the people; the best I can do is to take a type, an

example. In every county of every state of the Nation each party has

its committee. This committee consists of a man from each precinct in

each township of the county. These precinct committeemen are chosen by

a process of natural selection. They are men who have an aptitude for

marshaling their fellow men.

In the country districts of the Republic they are usually men of good

character, good ability, good health, alert, sleepless, strong-willed.

They are men who have enough mental vitality to believe in something.

When they cease to be effective they are dropped, and new men

substituted by a sort of common consent. There are nearly two hundred

thousand precinct committeemen in the United States.

These men are a part of American institutions in action. They work all

the time. They talk politics and think politics in the midst of their

business or their labor. Their casual conversation with or about every

family within their jurisdiction keeps them constantly and freshly

informed of the tendency of public opinion.

They know how each one of their neighbors feels on the subject of

protection, or the Philippines, or civil service, or the currency.

They know the views of every voter and every voter's wife on public

men. They understand whether the people think this man honest and that

man a mere pretender. The consensus of judgment of these precinct

committeemen indicates with fair accuracy who is the "strongest man"

for his party to nominate, and what policies will get the most votes

among the people.

This is their preliminary work. When platforms have been formulated

and candidates have been chosen, these men develop from the partizan

passive to the partizan militant. They know those who, in their own

party, are "weakening," and by the same token those who are

"weakening" in the other party.

They know just what argument will reach each man, just what speaker

the people of their respective sections want to hear upon public

questions. They keep everybody supplied with the right kind of

literature from their party's view-point.

They either take the poll of their precinct or see that it is taken;

and that means the putting down in a book the name of each voter, his

past political allegiance, his present political inclinations, the

probable ballot he will cast, etc.

Not many of these men do this work for money or office. There are too

many of them to hope for reward. Primarily they do it because they are

naturally Americans, because they have the gift of government, because

they like to help "run the show." They are useful elements of our

political life, and they are modest. They seldom ask anything for

themselves.

They do require, however, that their opinions shall be taken into

account as to appointments to office made from their county, and of

course they make their opinions felt in all nominating conventions.

Without these men our "American institutions" would look beautiful on

paper but they would work haltingly. They would move sluggishly. They

might even rust, and fall to pieces from decay.

This much space has been given to the political precinct committeeman

because, as I have said, he is a type. He is the man who sees that the

"citizen" does not forget his citizenship. This great body of men,

fresh from the people, of the people, living among the people, are

perpetually renewed from the ranks of the people.

All this occurs, as has been said, by a process of natural selection.

The same process selects from this great company of "workers" county,

district, and state committeemen--county, district, and state

chairmen. And the process continues until it culminates in our great

National committees, headed by masterful captains of popular

government, under whose generalship the enormous work of National and

state campaigns is conducted.

Very well. If you appreciate your Americanism, young man, show it by

being a part of American institutions. Be one of these precinct

committeemen, or a county committeeman, or a state committeeman, or a

worker of some kind. If _you_ do not, a bad man will; and that will

mean bad politics and bad government.

You see, this whole question of good government is right up to _you_.

_You_ are the remedy for bad government, young man--_you_ and not

somebody else, not some theory. So be a committeeman or some sort of a

"worker" in real politics. Help run our institutions _yourself_, or,

rather, be a part of our institutions yourself.

If you have neither the time nor aptitude for such active work, at

least be a citizen. That does not mean merely that you shall go to the

polls to vote. It does not even mean that you shall go to the

primaries only. It means a great deal more than that.

At the very least be a member of an active political club which is

working for your party's success. There are such clubs in most wards

of our cities.

They are the power-houses of our political system. Party sentiment

finds its first public expression there--often it has its beginnings

there in the free conversations which characterize such American

political societies. You will find the "leaders" gathering there, too;

and in the talks among these men those plans gradually take form by

which nominations are made and even platforms are formulated.

These "leaders" are men who, in the practical work of politics,

develop ability, activity, and effectiveness. There is a great deal of

sneering at the lesser political leaders in American politics. They

are called "politicians," and the word is used as a term of reproach,

and sometimes deservedly. But ordinarily these "leaders," especially

in the country districts of the Republic, are men who keep the

machinery of free institutions running.

The influence of no boss or political general can _retain_ a young man

in leadership. Favoritism may give you the place of "local leader";

but nothing but natural qualities can keep you in it. The more we have

of honest, high-grade "local leaders," the better.

Whether you, young man, become one or not, you ought at least to be a

part of the organization, and work with the other young men who are

leaders. But be sure to make one condition to your fealty--require

them to be honest.

"I have no time for politics," said a business man; "it takes all my

time and strength to attend to my business."

That means that he has no time for free institutions. It means that

this "blood-bought privilege" which we call "the priceless American

ballot" is not worth as much to him as the turning of a dollar, or

even as the loss of a single moment's personal comfort.

"Come down to the club to-night; we are going to talk over the coming

campaign," said one man to another in an American city of moderate

size and ideal conditions.

"Excuse me," was the answer; "we have a theater party on hand

to-night."

Yes; but while the elegant gentleman of society enjoys the witty

conversation of charming women, and while the business man is

attending to his personal affairs and nothing else, the other fellows

are determining nominations, and under the direction of able and

creative political captains shaping the policies of parties, and in

the end the fate of the Nation.

Of course that is all right if that is your conception of American

citizenship. But if this is going to be "a government of the people

and by the people," _you_, as one of the people, have got to take part

in it. That means you have got to take part in it _all the time_.

Occasional spasms of violent civic virtue amount to little in their

permanent results. They only scare bad men for a day or two. Their

very ardor soon burns them out. The citizen has got to do more than

that--he has got to take an every-day-and-every-week interest in our

civic life. If he does not, our brave and beautiful experiment in

self-government will surely fail and we shall be ruled not even by a

trained and skilful tyrant, but by a series of coarse and corrupt

oligarchies.

In ancient Israel a certain proportion of the year's produce was given

to the Temple. In like manner, if popular government means anything to

you, you have got to give up a certain portion of your time and money

to _being a part_ of this popular government.

Just this is the most important matter in our whole National life.

Recently there died the greatest master of practical politics America

has produced. Firmly he had kept his steel hand upon his state for

thirty years. A dozen times were mighty efforts made to break his

over-lordship. Each time his resourcefulness, audacity, and genius

confounded his enemies. But finally that undefeated conqueror, Death,

took this old veteran captive.

He left an able successor in his seat of power, but a man without that

prestige of invulnerability which a lifetime of political combat and

victory had given the deceased leader. "Here," said every one, "is an

opportunity to overthrow the machine." Within a few months an election

occurred--not a National election, but one in which the "machine"

might have been crippled.

But, _mirabile dictu_, the "good people," the "reformers," the

"society" and "business" classes, _did not come out to vote_. They not

only formed no plans to set up a new order of things, _they did not

even go to the polls_. Yet these were the descendants of the men who

founded the Nation and who set free institutions in practical

operation.

This shows how American institutions, like everything else, have in

themselves the seeds of death if they are not properly exercised. When

the great body of our citizens become afflicted with civic paralysis,

it is the easiest thing in the world for the strong and resourceful

"boss," by careful selection of his precinct committeemen and other

local workers all over his state, to seize power--legislative,

executive, and even judicial. It has been done more than once in

certain places in this country.

Where it is successful, _the Republic no longer endures_. The people

no longer rule; an oligarchy rules in the name of the people. And

where this is true, the people deserve their fate. And so, young man,

if you do not expect this fate to overtake the entire country, _you_

have got to get right into "the mix of things."

_You_, I say, not some other man, but _you_, _you_, _you_. _You_--you

yourself--YOU are the one who is responsible. Quit your

aloofness. Get out of any clubs and desert all associations which

sneer at active work in ward and precinct. Do not get political

locomotor ataxia.

It was a fine thing that was said by a political leader to a

singularly brilliant young man from college who, with letters of

unlimited indorsement from the presidents of our three greatest

universities, asked for a humble place in the diplomatic service. He

wanted to make that service his career.

"I like your style," said the man whose favor the young fellow was

soliciting. "Your ability is excellent, your recommendations perfect,

your character above reproach, your family a guarantee of your moral

and mental worth. But you have done nothing yet among real men.

"Go back to your home; get out of the exclusive atmosphere of your

perfumed surroundings; join the hardest working political club of

your party in your city; report to the local leader for active work;

mingle with those who toil and sweat.

"Do this until you 'get a standing' among other young men who are

doing things. Thus you will get close to the people whom, after all,

you are going to represent. Also this contact with the sharp, keen

minds of the most forceful fellows in your town will be the best

training you can get for the beginning of your diplomatic career."

"Now let me tell you this," said President Roosevelt to this same

young man: "You may have a small under-secretaryship; but let me tell

you this," said he; "do not take it just yet. You are only out of

college. Take a postgraduate course with the people. Get down to

earth. See what kind of beings these Americans are. Find out from

personal contact.

"If you belong to exclusive clubs, quit them, and spend the time you

would otherwise spend in their cold and unprofitable atmosphere in

mingling with the people, the common people, merchants and street-car

drivers, bankers and working men.

"Finally, when you get your post, do as John Hay did--resign in a

year, or a couple of years, and come home to your own country, and

again for a year or two get down among your fellow Americans. In

short," said he, "be an American, and never stop being an American."

That is it, young man--that is the whole law and the gospel of this

subject. Be an American. And do not be an American of imagination. You

cannot be an American by seeing visions and dreaming dreams. You

cannot be an American by reading about them. Professor Munsterberg's

volume will not make you an American any more than a study of tactics

out of a book will make you a soldier.

It is the field that makes you a soldier. It is marching shoulder to

shoulder with other soldiers that makes you a soldier. It is mingling

with other Americans that makes you an American. Our eighty millions

will make you American. Keep close to them. The soil will make you

American. Keep close to it.

Utilize your enthusiasms. Do not neutralize them by permitting them to

be vague and impersonal. Be for men and against men. Be for policies

and against policies. And remember always that it is far more

important to be for somebody and something than to be against.

There is an excellent though fortunately a small class of citizens in

this and every other country who are never for anybody but always

against somebody. Frequently these men are right in their opposition;

but their force is dissipated because they are habitually negative.

I know of nothing better for a young man's character than that he

should become the admirer and follower of some noted public man. Let

your discipleship have fervor. Permit your youth to be natural. But be

sure that the political leader to whom you attach yourself is worthy

of your devotion.

Usually this will settle itself. Public men will impress you not only

by their deeds, words, and general attitude; but also through a sort

of psychic sense within you which illumines and interprets all they

say and do, and makes you understand them even better than their

spoken words.

This subconscious intelligence which the people come to have of a

public man is seldom wrong.

Somehow or other the people know instinctively those who really are

unselfishly devoted to the Nation's interest. _In the end_ they never

fail to know the man who is honest.

This instinctive estimate of the qualities of mind and soul of public

men will probably select for you the captain to whom you are to give

your allegiance. Be faithful and earnest in your championship of him.

In this way you make your political life personal and human.

You give to the policies in which you believe the warmth and vitality

of flesh and blood. And, best of all, you increase within yourself

human sympathies and devotions, and thus make yourself more and more

one of the people who in due time, in your turn, it may be your duty

to lead, if the qualities of leadership are in you.

This matter of leadership among public men is becoming more and more

important, because personality in politics is meaning more every day.

Obeying generally, then, your instinct as to the public men whom you

intend to follow, subject your choice to the corrective of cold and

careful analysis.

The Young Man and the World · 第 16 / 19 段