The Old-Time Politician

— I suppose that when civil service reform has become established in its widest application, the old-time politician will be an extinct animal whose lineaments are preserved only in literature ; and doubtless such a consummation is to be desired. The reformers tell us so, and all respectable people are, or pretend to be, reformers. Nevertheless, in the confidence of the Club, I venture to say that the old-time politician had his good points. It might even be contended, without manifest absurdity, that he is (or was) the last lingering exponent of Feudalism. The essential characteristic of Feudalism I take to be that, under it, the relation between one man and another was based partly on self-interest, partly on kindly feeling. There was protection on the one side, and there was dependence on the other. — the sense of responsibility and the sense of loyalty ; so that between superior and inferior there was a give-and-take of mutual good will and advantage. Whereas, under our modern, democratic, competitive system, the only bond between man and man is that of pure self-interest, — the “ cash nexus.”

The old-time politician had his feudal superiors and his feudal inferiors : he looked up to and obeyed the former, he looked after and protected the latter. He was a genial, sociable fellow, and, above all things, sympathetic. Governor Andrew used to say, “ I like folks ; ” and that was the characteristic of the typical politician. Of course he cultivated and exaggerated this feeling, and sometimes he was actually cold-hearted, his apparent sympathy being mere affectation. I was once introduced to an ex-governor of Massachusetts, a man who was, and still is, extremely popular. We met in a business office where some business was in progress, and I really think that he tumbled over half a dozen chairs before he got near enough to grasp my hand. He shook it warmly, and smiled ail unctuous smile. Then I understood, as I never had done before, why he was so popular. This was one type of politician, but not the best nor even the most common type.

I remember another meeting with another politician, — no less a person than a Senator of the United States. With this man’s career I had long been familiar. I had read his speeches and knew his history, and often I had wondered what might be the secret of his success, for he had shown no indication of strong intellect or of strong character. When I met him, the mystery was solved. He had in a very high degree that sympathetic quality of which I am speaking. There was a native kindliness, a fellow-feeling about him, which gave a certain charm to everything that he said or did, and carried with it a conviction of sincerity. No doubt he had fostered this quality, and perhaps he professed a little more than he felt ; still, there was something there by nature, a genuine sympathy with and concern for his fellow-men. Such a quality is a very beautiful one, and it ought to he attractive. Probably it was this gift which made Franklin Pierce a President of the United States, and an intimate friend of Hawthorne. Historically considered, Franklin Pierce’s personality seems very thin and shadowy ; but the fact remains that he was esteemed and loved by Hawthorne, the most fastidious and the most discerning’ man of his time.

Under the old system, men who had this gift of sympathy and its accompaniment of tact were naturally drawn to polities, and they found there ample scope for the exercise of their gifts and talents. Nor was there any lack of scope in old-fashioned politics for the gift of command, of leadership. Mr. Roscoe Conkling, for example, and Mr. Dean Richmond before him, were political bosses, but these gentlemen were bosses in the grand style. They were great feudal lords, who scorned the arts of popularity, and ruled because they were born to rule.

“But what of it ?” the conscientious reformer will ask. “ Why should your genial, kindly man meddle with politics. Why should he bring his favoritism and his ‘ magnetism ’ into the matter of office-holding ? And is n’t it better that the offices should be filled by competitive examination rather than by Roscoe Conkling ? ” Yes, no doubt ; but still there is something to be said in behalf of the old system. It gave to certain qualities their natural supremacy. If a man had the capacity to lead men and to manage them, he became a leader and a manager. And so, on the other hand, there was developed in his followers an instinct of lovalty. Rut who can be loyal to a person selected by a process of competitive examinations ? Who can be loyal to a mere idea ? Doubtless a few persons are capable of loyalty to an idea ; but the great ma jority of us have not this capacity. The old-fashioned politician, the boss (I will not shrink from the word), had toward his dependents that mingled feeling of kindness and superiority which befits a born leader of men. There was a remark made some years ago by a politician (whose party had just come into power) which was much quoted at the time, and quoted with horror. He said, “ We really ought to take the boys in, and give them a chance to warm their toes ; ” videlicet, let them have a share of the spoils. This was a wrong sentiment, but still it was a kindly, humorous sentiment ; and the relation between such a boss and his followers is not, as the reformers think, a purely mercenary one.

The reformers, it must be confessed, are, as a rule, somewhat cold in temperament, a little thin in mind, a trifle deficient in sympathy; not quite so close to nature as might be wished. We all know the type. It is peculiarly a Boston type. The reformer is usually a man whose circumstances in life have been so fortunate that he was never obliged, even as a boy, to black his own boots. Now, it is very hard (I do not say impossible) for a person who has never blacked his own boots to have that wide, democratic sympathy with “ the plain people ” which is really almost as necessary in a successful reformer as it could be in a corruptionist.

I was talking, the other day, with a very eminent and acute reformer (not a Bostonian),— a man whose name is known all over the country ; and he spoke of a certain politician as a murderer, pure and simple. That was all. But upon inquiry I found that the fellow was not a murderer, in the ordinary sense. He had indeed killed a man, but it was in the course of a vendetta ; it was the slayer of his brother whom he had killed. This put a different face upon the matter ; but the difference was ignored, it was not even perceived; by the reformer to whom I refer. To him the man was a murderer, and nothing more. Such want of discrimination comes from being too respectable, from taking a conventional, formal view of life, from overlooking some essential facts of human nature-

Perhaps — as indeed I have admitted — the old-time politician was a little too much the child of nature ; but if the reformers could only appreciate his good as well as his bad points; reform might come more quickly and with less friction.