answer.

It is well known where the Donkey has been beaten. Fifteen national presidential elections have been held since the Civil War and in only four of them has the Donkey won. And, with one exception, every time the Donkey did win, the Elephant was sick. Surely enough to discourage any challenger! How comes it, then, that the Donkey is not discouraged? The answer lies in its successes. Thirty-one Congresses have been convened since the Civil War. In eleven of them has the Democratic party been in control of the House of Representatives. In fourteen In fourteen more it has been strong enough, joined with the independent or recalcitrant Republicans, to debate the issue in Congress. There are forty-eight State governors in the United States. To-day twenty-two To-day twenty-two of them are Democrats. When meeting the voters face to face with their candidates, the Donkey does not do so ill.

What would seem to be wrong with the Donkey, then, is his inability to defeat the Elephant in single combat, at a national election where the candidates are removed from the people, where the issues are befogged and confused, where the advantage of money, of publicity, of office is all with the opponent. When a Democrat comes up in a local election against a Republican, he seems able at least to hold his own, and often to win out. Now this may mean a number of things. In those cases where Democrats are elected to the Legislature, it may mean that Democrats choose better nominees; it may mean that the

tention to their local elections; or it may mean that the people prefer Democrats for legislative and local offices and Republicans for the national executive. However that may be, it should tell the Democratic party what "the line" is that it can sell the country. It should suggest to the leaders of the party that its future lies in the Congress and not in the White House, and that instead of wasting much valuable effort and money on that four-year prize-fight, they might turn both toward gaining control of the national legislature. Gaining it, that is, not haphazardly but with a definite end in view.

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The Constitution provides for three branches of government: the executive, in which the President functions; the legislative, in which the Congress functions; and the judicial, in which the Supreme Court functions. Each one is supposed to be coequal with the others; each one is designed to be a check on the others. In practice we Americans, especially at election time, have come to think of the Presidency as transcending the others, as alone representing power, the President as making policies, the President as running things. But let us see if this need be the case. He is inaugurated; he appears before Congress; he gives his message. The President outlines his policies, tells Congress what he thinks it should do for the good of the nation. If the Congress is of his own party it is supposed to proceed to carry out his wishes (in so far as selfish people representing their own ambitions and interests can be counted on to carry out the policies

that involve another's ambitions and interests even though he be their leader). And with his control of patronage, and their desire for party support and party victory, he does carry a sort of whip. But suppose, as happens about one half the time, the majority of this Congress is of the other party. Let us say, for example, that it is composed of Democrats, and the President is a Republican. In that case the President proposes and the Congress disposes. But suppose instead of waiting for the President to set up his pins for them to knock down, the Democratic Congress should say: "We are the local representatives of the people. They sent us here to do their will. This Congress is coequal with the Executive. Ours not to carry out the President's wishes but to carry out their wishes. Here is our program. Let us see what the President will do with it."

Of course, with his check upon Congress the President can veto every bit of legislation they pass. Let him. They can pass a bill over his veto, or refuse to confirm every appointment he makes. There comes the opportunity for power. With With a check each upon the other, compromise is necessary. And And thus these Democrats could ride into national power-a chance to do something, to make a record, to stand for something.

But to do this there is one great requisite. It is a leader, some one to outline policies, some one to deal with the individuals, showing where it is to their interest to support him, juggling local interest against local interest until he can get support for his plan, some one, in short, to use

this opportunity to make the Democratic Congress an instrument of the Democratic party as the Presidency is of the Republican party. This is no easy task. But it is one that ought to attract a statesman. Once the Presidency was not the instrument of a party as it is to-day. Once it did not control Congress, nullify its will, order foreign policy, determine tax levies. But men in the Presidency, seeing their opportunities, took them as they came until to-day the Presidency well-nigh governs by nullification of Congress, as the Constitution and past custom saw it. So certain men in Congress with a like keenness, a like eye to opportunity, a like desire for power, and an equal ability to manipulate men could make it the instrument of the people's wishes.

Not that the other party would sit by while all this happened. If Congress became powerful, if it took back to itself the appropriation of moneys, the framing of tax laws, the final word on tariffs, the administration of civil service, and the decision on foreign policy, if it spoke loudly and emphatically on the appointments to the Supreme Court, its opponents would make a vigorous fight for those Congressional seats. But what of that? It would take the fight home, to the people, where they once more would hear discussed those questions of government that concern them to-day as keenly as they ever did.

Surely the Democrats would have as good a chance to win that kind of a campaign as they have of winning the quadrennial prize-fight now staged. For myself, I think they would have more than an even

chance, for the Democrats are the local party. That is, in theory they claim to represent and historically have represented local as opposed to federal control, State and county as opposed to centralized power. Even when they may have departed in practice from this political theory the tradition has strength at the polls. The very organization of the Democratic party would help in such local fights. The Democrat, being an individual, likes to see his candidate and be his partner. The party is organized from the bottom, is strongest there, is self-supporting. It is a party of individuals, not of centralization. And, most important of all, a Congressman can reach his district directly. He can get along without the press. No national slogan or nationally advertised idol can compete with his face-to-face presentation of his cause.

of the congested population of his electorate, Donahey because of the official limelight, and Ritchie because of the smallness of his territory. What they have done all Congressmen, given the ability, could do.

This individualization of the Democrats has always been their weakness. Feeling themselves elected to represent the interests of a single district, Democrats come to Congress as individualists and there continue to be individualists; whereas Republicans more often come, with notable exceptions, as members of an organization. The result of this individualism is the failure of the Democrats to vote together on a program. The Republicans at least vote together, in groups, if only insurgent groups, but the Democrats insurge in isolation, every which way.

Yet this need not be so. Granted a leadership, a program that would be the mean of all the desires of their separate districts or the least common denominator on which they could agree, is not beyond possibility. And granted such a program, a majority vote is not unthinkable. They would, of course, need to be shown wherein they and their districts would profit by subscribing to such a program, what they would win for what they would sacrifice, and how unanimity would lead to success and success to power. But what is leadership for, except to show followers just these things?

Nor are Democrats even in Congress indisposed to listen. In 1922 they had such a leadership. From the Democratic National Committee went out a program for the men on the Hill. From the Democratic

National Committee went out a bulletin weekly to the newspapers in the districts of these men telling of this program and how their Congressmen were supporting it. In the Committee rooms were conferences. And a program of tax reduction, spectacular and fundamental, a program calling a recreant majority to account for its public appointees was put through-one of the most brilliant pieces of minority tactics and minority service our Congressional history can show. And the Democrats went into the "Madison Square Garden" Convention of 1924 with a great piece of good work done, with a fine organization by Congressional districts. And then what happened? The delegates there assembled deliberately forgot this program and this record and their responsibility for both and selected their champion without regard to the past record or the future leadership of the party.

If, instead of turning their whole attention toward expressing their religious, racial and alcoholic prejudices in their choice of a candidate, these delegates had counseled together and decided that what they wanted was not only a challenger to single combat but a leader who would conduct his campaign on the record of his party in Congress, who would lend his gifts to the reëlection of as many of those Congressmen as possible, and who would then become the leader, either as the chairman of the National Committee or as a Congressman himself, of his party in Congress, then, no matter what happened to that nominee in the Presidential election the program would have gone on, the party

would have grown in strength, and this year of our Lord 1928 would find it more virile, more articulate, and considerably and considerably nearer success. For even though it might not be yet trained up to the weight necessary to wrest the executive branch of government from the champion, it would be successful to the extent of having stood before the people for the program which it believed to be in the best interest of the people, of having waged battle and made a record.

But what did happen? Though a brilliant man was chosen candidate and sent out as a David against a Republican Goliath, his challenge was but another incident. Having received the honor and done his best-and it was best-and it was a brilliant and courageous best-he retired once more to his own place, leaving the party, of necessity, leaderless. For he had been chosen only as a challenger, not as a program maker. Yet his defeat disheartened his followers; such Congressmen as survived felt they did it on their own; and the program was forgotten.

This is of interest to-day only if it has a lesson for the future. Once more the Democratic party will have its opportunity. Soon delegates will be called to name another champion. They may, on the one hand, seek to name as challenger of the Republican nominee for the Presidency a man who will epitomize for the majority of the party some idea that of personal liberty, for instance—or a man who appeals to them for his qualities of character or of personality; they may award the nomination as a reward for good administration in a gubernatorial place; or they

may give it because they think a man has a really good chance to knock out his opponent. And no one could criticize them for that. Or, failing to agree, they may come to compromise on a man of high moral character and ability, and no one can blame them for that. In either case their candidate, failing of election, becomes an incident and once more the party of the opposition is adrift. On the other hand, they could get together-those men who believe in an opposition, who believe that the time has come to stop emasculation and nullification of Congress by the Executive, who believe the Republicans care naught for Congress if they may control the Executive, who think it more important to fight for the preservation of the power of that branch most close to the people, and they might say: "Our future lies in Congress. What we want is a standard-bearer for the Congressional elections, a candidate whose name at the head of the ticket will help every Congressman on it, who has the confidence and admiration of all Congressmen, who will be the leader of his party not only if elected but also if defeated, who, if not elected, may perhaps if not the chairman of the National Committee, if not a member of the House be a man who can and will advise the chairman of the National Committee, a man whose opinion will be sought and whose advice will be taken and who can outline a program for the Congressmen he has helped to elect." For then out of defeat will come usefulness, will come attainment, and even who knows-in time victory.

Although such a nominee might have as good a chance of election as one of the incidental variety, he might, of course, prove to be a sacrifice. But sacrifice candidacies are like sacrifice hits. There is always a chance to get to "first," but even when one does not, the sacrifice leads to something. Incidental candidacies lead nowhere. What the Democratic party needs is a leader, a national leader. A national leader must make a business of leading. He must have a goal. He must keep after it in defeat as in victory.

National leaders, professional leaders. Will the Democratic party use its nomination this year to develop one, or will this nomination, too, be an incident in some man's career? There are such leaders at hand. Not one but several. Found, of course, in the Congress, for there only, or in an editorial office, can be found one who is devoting himself to leadership in public affairs as a profession. Into the making of one real leader there must, however, go the sacrifice of all hopefully waiting ones, the would-be leaders. But then no real leader watchfully waits. He sees a goal. He starts for it. He urges others to start for it. And lo, he is a leader. But in following this leader the followers should ask, "Whither? To a challenge for the championship or a long fight, a steady fight for ascendancy?"

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Do I advocate return to the old system of nominating by Congressional caucus? Not entirely. For this leader would be chosen by the convention of delegates from the same districts as those which choose