the one whom all voters can teach all things is the bully saint and eagle screaming leader. The bigger the fool the higher the office.

The precious ninny who edits the organ -a newspaper edited by a primary meeting and ladled out to the loyal people with an official spoon believes that all reforms begin with the people. A very small boy in the first history class would be set down for not knowing that reforms owe their existence to reformers, the first generation of whom usually share the fate of Mr. Greeley, or meet a worse. Some of the clergy do now and then repeat, parrotlike, the statement that reforms begin with the people. Have they forgotten who founded Christianity? Most of them tell us he was the Lord from heaven; and it is stated on good authority that the people cried, "Not this man, but Barabbas." Crucify him crucify him!" Reforms begin in the choice and master spirits of the ages, and move down from intellectual thrones to the cottages of the people.

This flattery of the popular intelligence is simply demagogism. The prevalence and success of it mark dissolute times and declining states. When people reward their flatterers, the bottom begins to fall out of society. The average voter is not trusted with power on the theory that he is wiser than statesmen and purer than reformers; but he is trusted on the ground that he knows his own ignorance, and will take counsel of wisdom. If he wants a well - bucket, he employs a cooper; for a horse-shoe he applies to a blacksmith; and his political value lies in his power to distinguish a demagogue from a statesman. The average voter has no special conceit of his own head. He likes to be led likes nothing so much; but he is not averse to pleasant beguilements and illusions as to who is bossing the job. And it is probable that in the recent campaign the demagogue has slightly overreached his sovereign masters; for, in truth, the people have not had the least chance to

get the bits into their teeth. They were persistently told and made to believe that the bulkiest saints and heaviest purses and longest heads were for Grant. A few jaundiced and cantankerous fellows, of some merit, but grown too big for their boots, were in revolt; but learning, eloquence, piety, valor, and wealth, were all on the right side. The people could not have the presumption to fight against the soldiery, priests, brahmins, and swells of society, and they did not try. So docile a flock never followed a shepherd home; so submissive a French regiment never voted for Napoleon by presenting arms at the right place in the manual exercise.

In June, then, we were under a delusion of some sort. It is probable that the historian will find that most men then confounded two similar but unlike forces- the force of public opinion, and the force of party discipline. Because public opinion muttered discontent, it was believed that it would compel political action. Now, it is very rare that these two forces are in harmony. Party discipline is the slave of personal interests, and its success is only a question of combinations. But public opinion is, in ordinary times, the creation of thoughtful minds and independent journals. A general election is an exception in this respect, that public opinion ceases to exist in a presidential campaign. The convictions men entertain in June, have nothing to do with their votes in November, because convictions have been diligently harrowed out during months of political tillage. Smith wishes to stand well with his neighbors, and so to be on the strongest side. He is a coward, a prudent liver, a dependent upon patronage, a relative of the postmaster, a sharer in all the prejudices of the majority. His instinctive movement is to suppress dissent, enlarge the majority, and throw stones at reformers. He does not care, now, what lies are told, or who tells them, or whom they kill. He arms

himself with two or three current phrases, wants it distinctly understood that he, for his part, is on the good side, with the good people, and becomes as impervious to argument as an alligator is to bird-shot.

Success in a presidential struggle is a question of combinations of personal interest, and is not likely to come to any party which does not control either the executive or legislature of the nation. All our political history affirms this. A party must get into control of a branch of the government in times when ideas are tolerated, and discussions are real. From the throne of one branch, it may then conquer all. The republican party lost 1856, and won 1860. In the latter year, besides special incidents of advantage, it commanded the House. But its personal combinations were vast and complete.

The

Blairs, Sewards, Camerons, Weeds, Chandlers, Wilsons, Hamlins, represented armies of political adherents and dependents, and a practical sagacity not too careful about means to righteous ends.

If we contrast the first Liberal campaign with the second Republican one, we are struck with an amazing difference. The Liberals set sail in the waterlogged hulk of a party riddled and dismasted in lost elections and lost causes, with a crew selected at hazard from bolters and always-democrats, fanatical purists, and ballot - box stuffers, with a commander representing perfectly the lofty aim of the new party, and representing, just as perfectly, fifty other and opposing aims. Never before did the "muchness" of a candidate tell so fearfully upon his value.

But these were small matters when we look to the secret sources of political power. A few men of genius, statesmanship, and character, lent to the party the lustre and honor of stainless names. But these win no elections; the intriguing, combining, wire-pulling, practical politician governs this country. We wanted to get out of his clutches, and the Liberals began by

ordering him out of the house. A few persisted in staying in, but they proved the second-rate quality of their capacity by staying. The new party had several statesmen, and the wood for many more; but it had scarcely a respectable politician. Who of them could win a vote with a glass of whiskey, or a hundred votes with a social 'drunk," like Douglas? Who of them could buy and sell legislatures, or get the repute of owning them, like Weed? What equivalent had they for Seward's fine intrigue, or Cameron's splendid market for men, or Butler's dead-level appeal to our love of dirt, or Chandler's organizing by school districts, or Morton's arithmetical skill in distributing votes for members of a legislature, or that grand Pennsylvanian's “addition, division, and silence"? There were enough men with easy and elastic political consciences; no party can escape them. But grand capacity for combination had sense enough to be on the other side.

To this disparity of forces there was added a disparity of popularity in issues, that must by itself have caused the Liberal defeat. The North holds . the majority of electoral votes, and it is idle to deny that the North and South hate each other. A generous policy is an absurdity in politics, unless something is to be made by making a friend of your foe. Nobody forgives his enemies. That is a part of the Gospel found in no creed, and not yet believed by any considerable number of Christians. When the Republicans called for the slumbering hate of the North, it answered as promptly as our volunteer armies. The majority worked themselves into a frenzy, in which any folly would have been voted for, and any sacrifice of constitutional liberty enthusiastically offered. A mad man does not hesitate to throw away his own liberty, if he can in this way reduce his enemy to slavery.

The charges of dishonesty and corruption, whether well or ill made, were, if possible, a less promising issue. Par

ties have so long charged each other with corruption that the people attach no importance to such questions. Ben Butler struck the popular heart when he showed that a theft of a million dollars was only two and a half cents from each inhabitant of the nation. Corruption must be vast, systematic, and shameless, before it can command attention. And it must directly and largely affect the personal interests of voters. If a man be honest but "cold" that is, indisposed to help his friends to loot he will command less favor from voters than a moderately dishonest but warm-hearted fellow.

The ideal leader is one who does not steal himself, nor interfere with the thefts of his supporters and colleagues. To insist upon puritanical observance of the commandments is the straight road to unpopularity. A loose, easy, chivalrous, generous way of looking at all questions of duty in public life, is the best political policy.

The issue of civil service reform was not before the voters, inasmuch as both parties professed to favor it; and it is scarcely a question yet. The masses of the people regard it with indifference; the politicians use it according to their interests; and the five hundred men in the nation who believe in it are at liberty to amuse their idle hours in advocating its principles. The political class hold the power and will

keep it. The president who really enforces the new plans, will be made the most unpopular man in America; and President Grant may easily find compromises that will leave power and place where they now reside.

The chief value of the late election is in marking the definite establishment of power in the hands of the men who make politics a means of livelihood and of wealth. Exploiting the national resources has become one of the enterprises of our day; and the organization of the men who take this road to fortune is so complete as to defy opposition. They control the press, the banks, the railroads. They have become The Tammany of the nation; and our two and a half cents apiece must grow to dollars, and hundreds of dollars, before the wrath of the people can be expected to awake and punish.

The campaign must be set down as without purpose or result- other than the formal one- and most sensible men will turn to the future with no regard to the immediate past. We have dreamed an ugly dream, breaking now and then into diabolical nightmares, and we are not just fit for a day's work after such a night; but we shall doubtless recover our composure and strength; and four years of discussion will consolidate public opinion in favor of Reform.