LIFE COMES FROM THE SOIL

When I look back on the processes of history, when I survey the genesis of

America, I see this written over every page: that the nations are renewed

from the bottom, not from the top; that the genius which springs up from

the ranks of unknown men is the genius which renews the youth and energy

of the people. Everything I know about history, every bit of experience

and observation that has contributed to my thought, has confirmed me in

the conviction that the real wisdom of human life is compounded out of the

experiences of ordinary men. The utility, the vitality, the fruitage of

life does not come from the top to the bottom; it comes, like the natural

growth of a great tree, from the soil, up through the trunk into the

branches to the foliage and the fruit. The great struggling unknown masses

of the men who are at the base of everything are the dynamic force that

is lifting the levels of society. A nation is as great, and only as great,

as her rank and file.

So the first and chief need of this nation of ours to-day is to include in

the partnership of government all those great bodies of unnamed men who

are going to produce our future leaders and renew the future energies of

America. And as I confess that, as I confess my belief in the common man,

I know what I am saying. The man who is swimming against the stream knows

the strength of it. The man who is in the mêlée knows what blows are being

struck and what blood is being drawn. The man who is on the make is the

judge of what is happening in America, not the man who has made good; not

the man who has emerged from the flood; not the man who is standing on the

bank looking on, but the man who is struggling for his life and for the

lives of those who are dearer to him than himself. That is the man whose

judgment will tell you what is going on in America; that is the man by

whose judgment I, for one, wish to be guided.

We have had the wrong jury; we have had the wrong group,--no, I will not

say the wrong group, but too small a group,--in control of the policies of

the United States. The average man has not been consulted, and his heart

had begun to sink for fear he never would be consulted again. Therefore,

we have got to organize a government whose sympathies will be open to the

whole body of the people of the United States, a government which will

consult as large a proportion of the people of the United States as

possible before it acts. Because the great problem of government is to

know what the average man is experiencing and is thinking about. Most of

us are average men; very few of us rise, except by fortunate accident,

above the general level of the community about us; and therefore the man

who thinks common thoughts, the man who has had common experiences, is

almost always the man who interprets America aright. Isn't that the reason

that we are proud of such stories as the story of Abraham Lincoln,--a man

who rose out of the ranks and interpreted America better than any man had

interpreted it who had risen out of the privileged classes or the educated

classes of America?

The hope of the United States in the present and in the future is the same

that it has always been: it is the hope and confidence that out of unknown

homes will come men who will constitute themselves the masters of industry

and of politics. The average hopefulness, the average welfare, the average

enterprise, the average initiative, of the United States are the only

things that make it rich. We are not rich because a few gentlemen direct

our industry; we are rich because of our own intelligence and our own

industry. America does not consist of men who get their names into the

newspapers; America does not consist politically of the men who set

themselves up to be political leaders; she does not consist of the men who

do most of her talking,--they are important only so far as they speak for

that great voiceless multitude of men who constitute the great body and

the saving force of the nation. Nobody who cannot speak the common

thought, who does not move by the common impulse, is the man to speak for

America, or for any of her future purposes. Only he is fit to speak who

knows the thoughts of the great body of citizens, the men who go about

their business every day, the men who toil from morning till night, the

men who go home tired in the evenings, the men who are carrying on the

things we are so proud of.

You know how it thrills our blood sometimes to think how all the nations

of the earth wait to see what America is going to do with her power, her

physical power, her enormous resources, her enormous wealth. The nations

hold their breath to see what this young country will do with her young

unspoiled strength; we cannot help but be proud that we are strong. But

what has made us strong? The toil of millions of men, the toil of men who

do not boast, who are inconspicuous, but who live their lives humbly from

day to day; it is the great body of toilers that constitutes the might of

America. It is one of the glories of our land that nobody is able to

predict from what family, from what region, from what race, even, the

leaders of the country are going to come. The great leaders of this

country have not come very often from the established, "successful"

families.

I remember speaking at a school not long ago where I understood that

almost all the young men were the sons of very rich people, and I told

them I looked upon them with a great deal of pity, because, I said: "Most

of you fellows are doomed to obscurity. You will not do anything. You will

never try to do anything, and with all the great tasks of the country

waiting to be done, probably you are the very men who will decline to do

them. Some man who has been 'up against it,' some man who has come out of

the crowd, somebody who has had the whip of necessity laid on his back,

will emerge out of the crowd, will show that he understands the crowd,

understands the interests of the nation, united and not separated, and

will stand up and lead us."

If I may speak of my own experience, I have found audiences made up of the

"common people" quicker to take a point, quicker to understand an

argument, quicker to discern a tendency and to comprehend a principle,

than many a college class that I have lectured to,--not because the

college class lacked the intelligence, but because college boys are not in

contact with the realities of life, while "common" citizens are in contact

with the actual life of day by day; you do not have to explain to them

what touches them to the quick.

There is one illustration of the value of the constant renewal of society

from the bottom that has always interested me profoundly. The only reason

why government did not suffer dry rot in the Middle Ages under the

aristocratic system which then prevailed was that so many of the men who

were efficient instruments of government were drawn from the church,--from

that great religious body which was then the only church, that body which

we now distinguish from other religious bodies as the Roman Catholic

Church. The Roman Catholic Church was then, as it is now, a great

democracy. There was no peasant so humble that he might not become a

priest, and no priest so obscure that he might not become Pope of

Christendom; and every chancellery in Europe, every court in Europe, was

ruled by these learned, trained and accomplished men,--the priesthood of

that great and dominant body. What kept government alive in the Middle

Ages was this constant rise of the sap from the bottom, from the rank and

file of the great body of the people through the open channels of the

priesthood. That, it seems to me, is one of the most interesting and

convincing illustrations that could possibly be adduced of the thing that

I am talking about.

The only way that government is kept pure is by keeping these channels

open, so that nobody may deem himself so humble as not to constitute a

part of the body politic, so that there will constantly be coming new

blood into the veins of the body politic; so that no man is so obscure

that he may not break the crust of any class he may belong to, may not

spring up to higher levels and be counted among the leaders of the state.

Anything that depresses, anything that makes the organization greater than

the man, anything that blocks, discourages, dismays the humble man, is

against all the principles of progress. When I see alliances formed, as

they are now being formed, by successful men of business with successful

organizers of politics, I know that something has been done that checks

the vitality and progress of society. Such an alliance, made at the top,

is an alliance made to depress the levels, to hold them where they are, if

not to sink them; and, therefore, it is the constant business of good

politics to break up such partnerships, to re-establish and reopen the

connections between the great body of the people and the offices of

government.

To-day, when our government has so far passed into the hands of special

interests; to-day, when the doctrine is implicitly avowed that only select

classes have the equipment necessary for carrying on government; to-day,

when so many conscientious citizens, smitten with the scene of social

wrong and suffering, have fallen victims to the fallacy that benevolent

government can be meted out to the people by kind-hearted trustees of

prosperity and guardians of the welfare of dutiful employees,--to-day,

supremely, does it behoove this nation to remember that a people shall be

saved by the power that sleeps in its own deep bosom, or by none; shall be

renewed in hope, in conscience, in strength, by waters welling up from its

own sweet, perennial springs. Not from above; not by patronage of its

aristocrats. The flower does not bear the root, but the root the flower.

Everything that blooms in beauty in the air of heaven draws its fairness,

its vigor, from its roots. Nothing living can blossom into fruitage unless

through nourishing stalks deep-planted in the common soil. The rose is

merely the evidence of the vitality of the root; and the real source of

its beauty, the very blush that it wears upon its tender cheek, comes from

those silent sources of life that lie hidden in the chemistry of the soil.

Up from that soil, up from the silent bosom of the earth, rise the

currents of life and energy. Up from the common soil, up from the quiet

heart of the people, rise joyously to-day streams of hope and

determination bound to renew the face of the earth in glory.

I tell you, the so-called radicalism of our times is simply the effort of

nature to release the generous energies of our people. This great American

people is at bottom just, virtuous, and hopeful; the roots of its being

are in the soil of what is lovely, pure, and of good report, and the need

of the hour is just that radicalism that will clear a way for the

realization of the aspirations of a sturdy race.

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