and take his punishment. It is beside the point to say he won in 1912. His opponent was a Siamese twin. Or even to say he won in 1916. The weather conditions were traordinary.

Now the backers of this Donkey, the professional backers, know perfectly well that he can not win. They do not fool themselves. So they do not have to consider the "availability" of the candidate nationally, whether he would make a good President, or even whether he would make a good nominee. They need only consider whether he would help their ticket locally. In the same way when they come to the convention they do not need to consider whether certain planks in the platform will or will not help the national ticket. Knowing it foredoomed, they think only of the effect on their local tickets. A woman once asked me why it was that the large city delegations in our Democratic Convention were so much less "amenable" to the wishes of the majority than were the city delegations in the Republican Convention, which has its Philadelphia as the Democratic has its Tammany, which has its Thompson as the Democratic has its Brennan. And I explained to her that the Republican party won so often that its so often that its national patronage interested its local leaders, whereas we won so seldom that it was no bait at all.

To be sure, there are the idealists in the Convention, those Democrats who hope perennially that someway, somehow, we are are going to win this time, that suddenly the majority of the American people will see the light, and root for the

Donkey. And because of this hope they cling the more insistently to their ideal of a nominee. And so once more the Donkey finds himself subjected to a tug of war that leaves him slightly weakened for the November prize-fight.

Of course, even the professionals occasionally get the idea that they can pick a winner. There are evidences of this to-day. It is just possible that the next Convention will see the poor old Donkey so injected with this winning virus that it will finish him, the Convention picking the man it thinks can win regardless of all else.

219

Is there, then, no hope for the Donkey? I think there is. But my cure involves more strenuous treatment than any yet offered. It is equivalent to the physician's, "What you need, Madame, is an entire change of scene."

When a business man finds his business failing he does not keep on at the same old stand, selling the same old thing in the same old way. He looks about for something else the public needs which his capital and organization can provide, or he decides to move his business. This is something that would never occur to a politician. He is too inured to the old routine. He has forgotten that it is his business to sell.

Indeed, even a sensible prizefighter, under the circumstances, would retire from the ring and take up some other line. But what other line can the Democratic party take up? What need have the people which it can meet so acceptably that they will support it? These are

the questions we should ask. And

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 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 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

Democratic politicians pay more attention 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.

22

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 à 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 a check each upon the other, compromise is necessary. 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