CHAPTER XLVI.
THE BETTER ELEMENT.
The evening after this glorious day, Peter came in from his ride, butinstead of going at once to his room, he passed down a little passage,and stood in a doorway.
"Is everything going right, Jenifer?" he queried.
"Yissah!"
"The flowers came from Thorley's?"
"Yissah!"
"And the candies and ices from Maillard?"
"Yissah!"
"And you've _frappe_ the champagne?"
"Yissah?"
"Jenifer, don't put quite so much onion juice as usual in the QueenIsabella dressing. Ladies don't like it as much as men."
"Yissah!"
"And you stood the Burgundy in the sun?"
"Yissah! Wha foh yo' think I doan do as I ginl'y do?"
Jenifer was combining into a stuffing bread crumbs, chopped broiledoysters, onions, and many other mysterious ingredients, and was becomingirritated at such evident doubt of his abilities.
Peter ought to have been satisfied, but he only looked worried. Heglanced round the little closet that served as a kitchen, in search ofpossible sources for slips, but did not see them. All he was able to saywas, "That broth smells very nice, Jenifer."
"Yissah. Dar ain't nuffin in dat sup buh a quart a thick cream, and desqueezin's of a hunerd clams, sah. Dat sup will make de angels sorry deydied. Dey'll just tink you'se dreful unkine not to offer dem a secon'help. Buh doan yo' do it, sah, foh when dey gits to dem prayhens, dey'llbe pow'ful glad yo' didn't." To himself, Jenifer remarked: "Who he gwinehab dis day? He neber so anxious befoh, not even when de Presidint anGuv'nor Pohter dey dun dine hyah."
Peter went to his room and, after a due course of clubbing and tubbing,dressed himself with the utmost care. Truth compels the confession thathe looked in his glass for some minutes. Not, however, apparently withmuch pleasure, for an anxious look came into his face, and he remarkedaloud, as he turned away, "I don't look so old, but I once heard Wattssay that I should never take a prize for my looks, and he was right. Iwonder if she cares for handsome men?"
Peter forgot his worry in the opening of a box in the dining-room andthe taking out of the flowers. He placed the bunches at the differentplaces, raising one of the bouquets of violets to his lips, before helaid it down. Then he took the cut flowers, and smilax, and spread themloosely in the centre of the little table, which otherwise had nothingon it, except the furnishings placed at each seat. After that he againkissed a bunch of violets. History doesn't state whether it was the samebunch. Peter must have been very fond of flowers!
"Peter," called a voice.
"Is that you, Le Grand? Go right into my room."
"I've done that already. You see I feel at home. How are you?" hecontinued, as Peter joined him in the study.
"As always."
"I thought I would run in early, so as to have a bit of you before therest. Peter, here's a letter from Muller. He's got that 'Descent' in itsfirst state, in the most brilliant condition. You had better get it, andtrash your present impression. It has always looked cheap beside therest."
"Very well. Will you attend to it?"
Just then came the sound of voices and the rustle of draperies in thelittle hall.
"Hello! Ladies?" said Le Grand. "This is to be one of what Lispenardcalls your 'often, frequently, only once' affairs, is it?"
"I'm afraid we are early," said Mrs. D'Alloi. "We did not know how muchtime to allow."
"No. Such old friends cannot come too soon."
"And as it is, I'm really starved," said another personage, shakinghands with Peter as if she had not seen him for a twelve-month insteadof parting with him but two hours before. "What an appetite riding inthe Park does give one! Especially when afterwards you drive, and drive,and drive, over New York stones."
"Ah," cried Madame. "_C'est tres bien_!"
"Isn't it jolly?" responded Leonore.
"But it is not American. It is Parisian."
"Oh, no, it isn't! It's all American. Isn't it, Peter?"
But Peter was telling Jenifer to hasten the serving of dinner. SoLeonore had to fight her country's battles by herself.
"What's all this to-day's papers are saying, Peter?" asked Watts, assoon as they were seated.
"That's rather a large subject even for a slow dinner."
"I mean about the row in the Democratic organization over the nominationfor governor?"
"The papers seem to know more about it than I do," said Peter calmly.
Le Grand laughed. "Miss De Voe, Ogden, Rivington--all of us, have triedto get Peter, first and last, to talk politics, but not a fact do weget. They say it's his ability to hold his tongue which made Costelltrust him and push him, and that that was the reason he was chosen tofill Costells place."
"_I_ don't fill his place," said Peter. "No one can do that. I merelysucceeded him. And Miss D'Alloi will tell you that the papers calling me'Taciturnity Junior' is a libel. Am I not a talker, Miss D'Alloi?"
"_I_ really can't find out," responded Leonore, with a puzzled look."People say you are not."
"I didn't think you would fail me after the other night."
"Ah," said madame. "The quiet men are the great men. Look at theFrench."
"Oh, madame!" exclaimed Leonore.
"You are joking" cried Mrs. D'Alloi.
"That's delicious," laughed Watts.
"Whew," said Le Grand, under his breath.
"Ah! Why do you cry out? Mr. Stirling, am I not right?" Madame appealedto the one face on which no amusement or skepticism was shown.
"I think it is rather dangerous to ascribe any particular trait to anynationality. It is usually misleading. But most men who think much, talklittle, and the French have many thinkers"
"I always liked Von Moltke, just for it being said of him that he couldbe silent in seven languages," said Le Grand.
"Yes," said Leonore. "It's so restful. We crossed on the steamer with aFrench Marquis who can speak six languages, and can't say one thingworth listening to in any."
Peter thought the soup all Jenifer had cracked it up to be.
"Peter," said Leonore, turning to him, "Mr. Le Grand said that you neverwill talk politics with anybody. That doesn't include me, of course?"
"No," said Peter promptly.
"I thought it didn't," said Leonore, her eyes dancing with pleasure,however, at the reply. "We had Mr. Pell to lunch to-day and I spoke tohim as to what you said about the bosses, and he told me that bossescould never be really good, unless the better element were allowed tovote, and not the saloon-keepers and roughs. I could see he was right,at once."
"From his point of view. Or rather the view of his class."
"Don't you think so?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Broadly speaking, all persons of sound mind are entitled to vote on themen and the laws which are to govern them. Aside from this, every ounceof brain or experience you can add to the ballot, makes it more certain.Suppose you say that half the people are too ignorant to vote sensibly.Don't you see that there is an even chance, at least, that they'll voterightly, and if the wrong half carries the election, it is because moreintelligent people have voted wrongly, have not voted, or have not takenthe trouble to try and show the people the right way, but have left themto the mercies of the demagogue. If we grant that every man who takescare of himself has some brain, and some experience, his vote is of somevalue, even if not a high one. Suppose we have an eagle, and a thousandpennies. Are we any better off by tossing away the coppers, because eachis worth so little. That is why I have always advocated giving thefranchise to women. If we can add ten million voters to an election, wehave added just so much knowledge to it, and made it just so much theharder to mislead or buy enough votes to change results."
"You evidently believe," said Watts, "in the saying, 'Everybody knowsmore than anybody?'"
Peter had forgotten all about his company in his interest over--over thefranchise. So he started slight
ly at this question, and looked upfrom--from his subject.
"Yes," said Le Grand. "We've been listening and longing to askquestions. When we see such a fit of loquacity, we want to seize theopportunity."
"No," said Leonore, "I haven't finished. Tell me. Can't you make the mendo what you want, so as to have them choose only the best men?"
"If I had the actual power I would not," said Peter.
"Why?"
"Because I would not dare to become responsible for so much, and becausea government of the 'best' men is not an American government."
"Why not?"
"That is the aristocratic idea. That the better element, so called,shall compel the masses to be good, whether they wish it or no. Just asone makes a child behave without regard to its own desires. With grownmen, such a system only results in widening the distance between theclasses and masses, making the latter more dependent and unthinking.Whereas, if we make every man vote he must think a little for himself,because different people advise him contrarily, and thus we bring himnearer to the more educated. He even educates himself by his ownmistakes; for every bad man elected, and every bad law passed, make himsuffer the results, and he can only blame himself. Of course we don'tget as good a government or laws, but then we have other offsettingadvantages."
"What are those?"
"We get men and laws which are the wish of the majority. Such are almostself-supporting and self-administering. It is not a mere combination ofwords, printing-ink, and white paper which makes a law. It is thepopular sentiment back of it which enforces it, and unless a law is thewish of a majority of the people who are to be governed by it, it iseither a dead letter, or must be enforced by elaborate police systems,supported oftentimes with great armies. Even then it does not succeed,if the people choose to resist. Look at the attempt to govern Ireland byforce, in the face of popular sentiment. Then, too, we get a stabilityalmost unknown in governments which do not conform to the people. Thiscountry has altered its system of government less than any other greatcountry in the last hundred years. And there is less socialisticlegislation and propaganda here than anywhere else. That is, lessdiscontent."
"But, Peter, if the American people are as sensible as you think, how doyou account for the kind of men who exercise control?" said Le Grand.
"By better men not trying."
"But we have reform movements all the time, led by good men. Why aren'tthese men elected?"
"Who are as absolutely inexperienced and blind as to the way toinfluence votes, as well can be. Look at it, as a contest, withoutregard to the merit of the cause. On one side we have bosses, who knowand understand the men in their wards, have usually made themselvespopular, are in politics for a living, have made it a life-study, and bydear experience have learned that they must surrender their own opinionsin order to produce harmony and a solid vote. The reformer, on thecontrary, is usually a man who has other occupations, and, if I may sayso, has usually met with only partial success in them. By that I meanthat the really successful merchant, or banker, or professional mancannot take time to work in politics, and so only the less successfultry. Each reformer, too, is sure that he himself is right, and as hisbread and butter is not in the issue, he quarrels to his heart's contentwith his associates, so that they rarely can unite all their force. Mostof the reform movements in this city have been attempted in a way thatis simply laughable. What should we say if a hundred busy men were toget together to-morrow, and decide that they would open a great bank, tofight the clearing-house banks of New York? Yet this, in effect, is whatthe reformers have done over and over again in politics. They say to themen who have been kept in power for years by the people, 'You arescoundrels. The people who elected you are ignorant We know how to doit better. Now we'll turn you out.' In short, they tell the majoritythey are fools, but ask their votes. The average reformer endorsesthoroughly the theory 'that every man is as good as another, and alittle better.' And he himself always is the better man. The peoplewon't stand that. The 'holier than thou' will defeat a man quicker inthis country than will any rascality he may have done."
"But don't you think the reformer is right in principle?"
"In nine cases out of ten. But politics does not consist in being right.It's in making other people think you are. Men don't like to be toldthat they are ignorant and wrong, and this assumption is the basis ofmost of the so-called educational campaigns. To give impetus to a newmovement takes immense experience, shrewdness, tact, and many otherqualities. The people are obstructive--that is conservative--in mostthings, and need plenty of time."
"Unless _you_ tell them what they are to do," laughed Watts. "Then theyknow quick enough."
"Well, that has taken them fifteen years to learn. Don't you see howabsurd it is to suppose that the people are going to take the opinionsof the better element off-hand? At the end of a three months' campaign?Men have come into my ward and spoken to empty halls; they've flooded itwith campaign literature, which has served to light fires; their papershave argued, and nobody read them. But the ward knows me. There's hardlya voter who doesn't. They've tested me. Most of them like me. I've livedamong them for years. I've gone on their summer excursions. I've talkedwith them all over the district. I have helped them in their troubles. Ihave said a kind word over their dead. I'm godfather to many. Withothers I've stood shoulder to shoulder when the bullets were flying.Why, the voters who were children when I first came here, with whom Iuse to sit in the angle, are almost numerous enough now to carry anelection as I advise. Do you suppose, because speakers, unknown to them,say I'm wrong, and because the three-cent papers, which they never see,abuse me, that they are going to turn from me unless I make them? Thatis the true secret of the failure of reformers. A logical argument isall right in a court of appeals, but when it comes to swaying fivethousand votes, give me five thousand loving hearts rather than fivethousand logical reasons."
"Yet you have carried reforms."
"I have tried, but always in a practical way. That is, by notantagonizing the popular men in politics, but by becoming one of themand making them help me. I have gained political power by recognizingthat I could only have my own way by making it suit the voters. You seethere are a great many methods of doing about the same thing. And theboss who does the most things that the people want, can do the mostthings that the people don't want. Every time I have surrendered my ownwishes, and done about what the people desire, I have added to my power,and so have been able to do something that the people or politicians donot care about or did not like."
"And as a result you are called all sorts of names."
"Yes. The papers call me a boss. If the voters didn't agree with me,they would call me a reformer."
"But, Peter," said Le Grand, "would you not like to see such a type ofman as George William Curtis in office?"
"Mr. Curtis probably stood for the noblest political ideas this countryhas ever produced. But he held a beacon only to a small class. A man whowrites from an easy-chair, will only sway easy-chair people. Andeasy-chair people never carried an election in this country, and neverwill. This country cannot have a government of the best. It will alwaysbe a government of the average. Mr. Curtis was only a leader to his owngrade, just as Tim Sullivan is the leader of his. Mr. Curtis, in hiseditorials, spoke the feelings of one element in America. Sullivan, inGermania Hall, voices another. Each is representative, the one of fiveper cent. of New York; the other of ninety-five per cent. If theAmerican people have decided one thing, it is that they will not betaken care of, nor coercively ruled, by their better element, orminorities."
"Yet you will acknowledge that Curtis ought to rule, rather thanSullivan?"
"Not if our government is to be representative. I need not say that Iwish such a type as Mr. Curtis was representative."
"I suppose if he had tried to be a boss he would have failed?"
"I think so. For it requires as unusual a combination of qualities to bea successful boss, as to be a successful merchant or banker. Yet onecannot te
ll. I myself have never been able to say what elements make aboss, except that he must be in sympathy with the men whom he tries toguide, and that he must be meeting them. Mr. Curtis had a broad, lovingnature and sympathies, and if the people had discovered them, they wouldhave liked him. But the reserve which comes with culture makes onelargely conceal one's true feelings. Super-refinement puts a man out ofsympathy with much that is basic in humanity, and it needs a great love,or a great sacrifice of feeling, to condone it. It is hard work for whatWatts calls a tough, and such a man, to understand and admire oneanother."
"But don't you think," said Mrs. D'Alloi, "that the people of our classare better and finer?"
"The expression 'noblesse oblige' shows that," said madame.
"My experience has led me to think otherwise," said Peter. "Of coursethere is a difference of standards, of ideals, and of education, inpeople, and therefore there are differences in conduct. But for theirknowledge of what is right and wrong, I do not think the so-calledbetter classes, which should, in truth, be called the prosperousclasses, live up to their own standards of right any more than do thepoor."
"Oh, I say, draw it mild. At least exclude the criminal classes," criedWatts. "They know better."
"We all know better. But we don't live up to our knowledge. I crossed onone of the big Atlantic liners lately, with five hundred other saloonpassengers. They were naturally people of intelligence, and presumablyof easy circumstances. Yet at least half of those people were plottingto rob our government of money by contriving plans to avoid payingduties truly owed. To do this all of them had to break our laws, and inmost cases had, in addition, to lie deliberately. Many of them wereplanning to accomplish this theft by the bribery of the custom-houseinspectors, thus not merely making thieves of themselves, but bribingother men to do wrong. In this city I can show you blocks so denselyinhabited that they are election districts in themselves. Blocks inwhich twenty people live and sleep in a single room, year after year;where the birth of a little life into the world means that all must eatless and be less warm; where man and woman, old and young, must shiverin winter, and stifle in summer; where there is not room to bury thepeople who live in the block within the ground on which they dwell. ButI cannot find you, in the poorest and vilest parts of this city, anyblock where the percentage of liars and thieves and bribe-givers is aslarge as was that among the first-class passengers of that floatingpalace. Each condition of society has its own mis-doings, and I believevaries little in the percentage of wrong-doers to the whole."
"To hear Peter talk you would think the whole of us ought to besentenced to life terms," laughed Watts. "I believe it's only an attempton his part to increase the practice of lawyers."
"Do you really think people are so bad, Peter?" asked Leonore, sadly.
"No. I have not, ten times in my life, met a man whom I should now callbad. I have met men whom I thought so, but when I knew them better Ifound the good in them more than balancing the evil. Our mistake is insupposing that some men are 'good' and others 'bad,' and that a sharpline can be drawn between them. The truth is, that every man has bothqualities in him and in very few does the evil overbalance the good. Imarvel at the goodness I find in humanity, when I see the temptation andopportunity there is to do wrong."
"Some men are really depraved, though," said Mrs. D'Alloi.
"Yes," said madame. "Think of those strikers!"
Peter felt a thrill of pleasure pass through him, but he did not showit. "Let me tell you something in connection with that. A high light inplace of a dark shadow. There was an attempt to convict some of thestrikers, but it failed, for want of positive evidence. The moral proof,however, against a fellow named Connelly was so strong that there couldbe no doubt that he was guilty. Two years later that man started out incharge of a long express, up a seven-mile grade, where one of ourrailroads crosses the Alleghanies. By the lay of the land every inch ofthat seven miles of track can be seen throughout its entire length, andwhen he had pulled half way up, he saw a section of a freight traincoming down the grade at a tremendous speed. A coupling had broken, andthis part of the train was without a man to put on the brakes. To go onwas death. To stand still was the same. No speed which he could give histrain by backing would enable it to escape those uncontrolled cars. Hesent his fireman back to the first car, with orders to uncouple theengine. He whistled 'on brakes' to his train, so that it should be heldon the grade safely. And he, and the engine alone, went on up thatgrade, and met that flying mass of freight. He saved two hundredpeople's lives. Yet that man, two years before, had tried to burn aliveforty of his fellow-men. Was that man good or bad?"
"Really, chum, if you ask it as a conundrum, I give it up. But there arethoroughly and wholly good things in this world, and one of them is thisstuffing. Would it be possible for a fellow to have a second help?"
Peter smiled. "Jenifer always makes the portions according to what is tofollow, and I don't believe he'll think you had better. Jenifer, can Mr.D'Alloi have some more stuffing?"
"Yissah," said Jenifer, grinning the true darkey grin, "if de gentmunwant't sell his ap'tite foh a mess ob potash."
"Never mind," said Watts. "I'm not a dyspeptic, and so don't needpotash. But you might wrap the rest up in a piece of newspaper, and I'lltake it home."
"Peter, you must have met a great many men in politics whom you knew tobe dishonest?" said Mrs. D'Alloi.
"No. I have known few men whom I could call dishonest. But then I make agreat distinction between the doer of a dishonest act and a dishonestman."
"That is what the English call 'a fine-spun' distinction, I think," saidmadame.
"I hope not. A dishonest man I hold to be one who works steadily andpersistently with bad means and motives. But there are many men whoselives tell far more for good than for evil in the whole, yet who are notabove doing wrong at moments or under certain circumstances. This manwill lie under given conditions of temptations. Another will bribe, ifthe inducement is strong enough. A third will merely trick. Almost everyman has a weak spot somewhere. Yet why let this one weakness--a partialmoral obliquity or imperfection--make us cast him aside as useless andevil. As soon say that man physically is spoiled, because he isnear-sighted, lame or stupid. If we had our choice between a new,bright, keen tool, or a worn, dull one, of poor material, we should nothesitate which to use. But if we only have the latter, how foolish torefuse to employ it as we may, because we know there are in the world afew better ones."
"Is not condoning a man's sins, by failing to blame him, directencouragement to them?" said Mrs. D'Alloi.
"One need not condone the sin. My rule has been, in politics, orelsewhere, to fight dishonesty wherever I found it. But I try to fightthe act, not the man. And if I find the evil doer beyond hope ofcorrection, I do not antagonize the doer of it. More can be done byamity and forbearance than by embittering and alienating. Man is notbettered by being told that he is bad. I had an alderman in here threeor four days ago who was up to mischief. I could have called him ascoundrel, without telling him untruth. But I didn't. I told him what Ithought was right, in a friendly way, and succeeded in straightening himout, so that he dropped his intention, yet went away my friend. If I hadquarrelled with him, we should have parted company, he would have donethe wrong, I should have fought him when election time came--anddefeated him. But he, and probably fifty of his adherents in the wardwould have become my bitter enemies, and opposed everything I tried inthe future. If I quarrelled with enough such men, I should in timeentirely lose my influence in the ward, or have it generally lessened.But by dealing as a friend with him, I actually prevented his doing whathe intended, and we shall continue to work together. Of course a man canbe so bad that this course is impossible, but they are as few inpolitics as they are elsewhere."
"Taciturnity Stirling in his great circus feat of riding a whole ward atonce," said Watts.
"I don't claim that I'm right," said Peter. "I once thought verydifferently. I started out very hotly as a reformer when I began lif
e.But I have learned that humanity is not reformed with a club, and thatif most people gave the energy they spend in reforming the world, ortheir friends, to reforming themselves, there would be no need ofreformers."
"The old English saying that 'people who can't mind their own businessinvariably mind some one's else,' seems applicable," said Watts.
"But is it not very humiliating to you to have to be friends with suchmen?" said Mrs. D'Alloi.
"You know Mr. Drewitt?" asked Peter.
"Yes," said all but madame.
"Do you take pleasure in knowing him?"
"Of course," said Watts. "He's very amusing and a regular parlor pet."
"That is the reason I took him. For ten years that man was notoriouslyone of the worst influences in New York State politics. At Albany, inthe interest of a great corporation, he was responsible for every joband bit of lobbying done in its behalf. I don't mean to say that hereally bribed men himself, for he had lieutenants for the actual dirtywork, but every dollar spent passed through his hands, and he knew forwhat purpose it was used. At the end of that time, so well had he donehis work, that he was made president of the corporation. Because of thatposition, and because he is clever, New York society swallowed him andhas ever since delighted to fete him. I find it no harder to shake handsand associate with the men he bribed, than you do to shake hands andassociate with the man who gave the bribe."
"Even supposing the great breweries, and railroads, and other intereststo be chiefly responsible for bribery, that makes it all the morenecessary to elect men above the possibility of being bribed," said LeGrand. "Why not do as they do in Parliament? Elect only men of such highcharacter and wealth, that money has no temptation for them."
"The rich man is no better than the poor man, except that in place ofbeing bribed by other men's money, he allows his own money to bribe him.Look at the course of the House of Lords on the corn-laws. Theslave-holders' course on secession. The millionaire silver senators'course on silver. The one was willing to make every poor man in Englandpay a half more for his bread than need be, in order that land mightrent for higher prices. The slave-owner was willing to destroy his owncountry, rather than see justice done. The last are willing to force agreat commercial panic, ruining hundreds and throwing thousands out ofemployment, if they can only get a few cents more per ounce for theirsilver. Were they voting honestly in the interest of their fellow-men?Or were their votes bribed?"
Mrs. D'Alloi rose, saying, "Peter. We came early and we must go early.I'm afraid we've disgraced ourselves both ways."
Peter went down with them to their carriage. He said to Leonore in thedescent, "I'm afraid the politics were rather dull to you. I lecturedbecause I wanted to make some things clear to you."
"Why?" questioned Leonore.
"Because, in the next few months you'll see a great deal about bosses inthe papers, and I don't want you to think so badly of us as many do."
"I shan't think badly of you, Peter," said Leonore, in the nicest tone.
"Thank you," said Peter. "And if you see things said of me that troubleyou, will you ask me about them?"
"Yes. But I thought you wouldn't talk politics?"
"I will talk with you, because, you know, friends must tell each othereverything."
When Leonore had settled back in the carriage for the long drive, shecogitated: "Mr. Le Grand said that he and Miss De Voe, and Mr. Ogden hadall tried to get Peter to talk about politics, but that he never would.Yet, he's known them for years, and is great friends with them. It'svery puzzling!"
Probably Leonore was thinking of American politics.