THE YOUNG MAN IN POLITICS
WHAT BUSINESS has gained in America, politics has lost. The flower of American manhood does not go into politics, but choosesindustry instead. In England just the reverse is true,and very frequently English young men devotetheir lives unselfishly to improving the state of theNation." Thus Winston Churchill—the English one; and it may be that his American namesake— who has had some experience in politics alsowould agree with him.
Assuming "the flower of American manhood" to be found in our colleges, it may be freely admitted that few of the group deliberately shape their course toward public life; although that veracious chronicle, the Congressional Directory, wherein each member sets down his autobiography, records that 323 of the 531 Senators and Representatives have had some acquaintance with formal education as attested by a bachelor's degree. Naturally, it is through the law that most of these men came into Congress; and it is by no means uninteresting to observe their successive steps toward Washington. West of the Hudson River the office of prosecuting attorney seems to be the favorite stepping-stone. And it may be fitting to remark, in view of the passion for investigation which has lately seized Congress, many of them continue yet to be prosecutors. In the Eastern States, the Legislatures are the chief fitting-schools for Congressional activities— though, both East and West, there are those who have made Washington in a single running jump. Yet it is probably true that most of this last and favored class spent some time in the lesser drudgeries of politics by service on local committees of their party or by some sort of campaign activity.
I say "lesser drudgeries" because public life is filled with drudgery. A magazine once described a Senator's day—which happened to be one of mine— and both the text and the illustrations were more than measurably accurate. There is much detail, in the Senate for example, which must be attended to and, of course, someone must attend to it. I have found the Senate to be much like every other place in life and that if one is willing to work there are plenty of others who are entirely willing to let him. Indeed, I have often thought that if I were called upon to name the one quality which makes a useful Senator I would say industry. And, in fact, from my knowledge of the body—as a commentator and as a member—l can readily recall more than one who came to high recognition, both in the Chamber and before the country, and who stood forth in truth as only a triumph of industrious mediocrity. These, I suppose, represent that contribution to our national advance which is natural in a country like ours and which is to be found in the patient faith- fulness of the one-talented many rather than in the brilliant achievements of the highly gifted few.
Surely it would seem unnecessary to argue at Dartmouth upon the desirability of public life as a career. And here I am not having in mind the striking contributions which our College has made to this field. I am remembering that it was at a Dartmouth commencement, in 1876, when the annual Phi Beta Kappa oration still had a vogue, that Whitelaw Reid delivered his remarkable address on "The Scholar in Politics," which he was called upon to repeat at other colleges and which formed the subject of a chapter in that biography of Mr. Reid which followed the close of his many-sided career. He set up the thesis of the obligation which the educated man owes to his land; and he especially held up to scorn the languid, though lettered, person who looks upon politics as a sordid and repulsive trade entirely beneath the ken of the cultured.
That is a tradition which still exists in many quarters, where it is believed that a politician must of necessity be unreliable, downright untruthful and corrupt. There are such men in politics; butand I say this after forty-four years of well-nigh constant political activity—they do not last. I have seen a long procession of politicians come and go; and those who have gone most meteorically are those who thought it a professional necessity to be unreliable, untruthful and attemptedly corrupt.
As A MATTER of fact, politics is vastly different L from any other business, profession or calling. These, for the most part, proceed through papers and written instruments—notes, contracts, acceptances, deeds, even letters—which are enforceable at law and which may be, and are, taken into court to compel an obligation. Whereas politics proceeds by word of mouth. Two men, or a group, meet—in a law office, it may be, or in a committee room, or even in a hotel bedroom, smoke-filled and in the wee, short hours. They discuss a matter, they plan a course, they come to an agreement; sometimes they perform the ritual of "shaking hands on it. But, with or without this ceremonial, they know they must keep their word; because they know that the man in politics who does not keep his word soon finds himself on the outside looking in. A few of this ilk may keep going for a few years, but their tenure is brief.
Therefore, it is to the companionship of no sordid crew that the young college man commits him- self when he goes in for politics. Many of his new associates will probably accent exemplary and peremptory on the antepenult, but no one of them will fail to be at a given place at a given time as promised, and each of them will deliver the goods if his traction machinery remains in running order. An old politician, who had risen to be called a "boss" and who also had some rather important commercial enterprises, once told me that in the latter most of his subordinates regarded a plausible excuse as good as the accomplishment of the task set for them, but that in politics a man either did or did not perform and never palavered about it.
In politics, too, the young man will find the human satisfaction of a growing sense of power. I do not mean the necessary reflection that in politics, if regarded as a game, the pieces are the most fascinating in the world, namely, men and women; but that he comes to know, especially if he goes on to higher places, that there are passing under his hands, daily, measures which affect the welfare and perhaps the ultimate destiny, of thousands or millions of people far away, whom he does not know and never has heard of. This sometimes affects the politician with an ineradicable megalomania, but more often it stimulates his sense of responsibility. I think this is especially so in the case of those of our Presidents who have been politicians first. My generation can recall more than one occupant of the White House who went there followed by apprehension on the part of many, but who, in "the stately mansion of power" as Mr. Blaine called it, found himself growing up to the responsibilities of his office and quitting it with universal satisfaction for his administration.
OF COURSE, those who embark on the sea of politics are not all to make the haven of the White House. In point of fact many of us who have sailed these seas for years have come to know the draw- backs which that harbor has. The Presidency is a man-killing job and a loving people yearly heap upon their President more and more unnecessary burdens. This applies measurably to any public post, no matter how apparently insignificant. No man in office can call his time his own; he cannot imagine the numberless and the endless tasks which every day will leave at his door and which, in their variety and as indicative of the notion his constituents have of his functions and his capabilities, will amuse him almost as much as they will irritate him. His irritation will probably be vented upon the stenographer to whom he will dictate the letter to the constituent who has calmly demanded a stone from the White House wall for the rock-garden which is projected for a cottage at Springer's Point; and he probably will also share his amuse- ment for the other constituent who has sent him a song—words and music—which he is asked to sing at the next musicale at the French Embassy—and he, poor chap, as tone-deaf as Trilby and no Svengali at hand!
Therefore, the young man who intends to go in for politics will do well to make sure that he cares a lot for people—and for a lot'of people. And he will do well also to see to it that his care for them is never diluted. If his duties carry him afar from his constituency he will find tragedy coming upon him as he comes infrequently home and finds that a new generation has sprung up which knows neither Joseph nor him; and as he stands in the diminishing circle of those of his own age and sees them one by one drop from beside him. Even more poignantly he will find this last if he chances to come into those small and picked bodies of men such as the Senate or the Diplomatic Service. There he will find growing friendships which leap into affection and soon he will see these sundered by death, defeat, transfer or retirement. In four years as a Minister I found myself so near the head of the Corps that I was frequently acting as its doyen; and in the Senate I have seen more than a hundred come and go. My predecessor confessed to a loneliness in his last years in Washington; and Mr. Lodge often repined to me that the inflexibility which years always bring to a man narrowed his friendships quite as much as the changing personnel which time had created.
There is another reason, perhaps more practical, why the young man in politics should strive to keep his friendliness for people—and especially for voters—very constantly keyed up. The direct primary rules us now. I have no personal quarrel with it; it has served me well enough. But it has made politics much harder and I am sure that it has not greatly benefited our public life. If this be treason, etc.
LET IT NOT be thought that I am using only drab I overtones in my picture. Politics is a gorgeous lottery. There are great capital prizes to be had and there are also blanks to be drawn. No one can tell which he will get at any election—but that constitutes, I suppose, one of the charms of a democracy. Accordingly, the most useful, the most diligent, the most capable, the most brilliant of public men, who has attained the heights and shared his glories with his people, is likely to find himself wondering on the morning after, as John L. Sullivan did after his bout with Corbett at New Orleans forty years ago: "I)id that young feller lick me?"
But before that comes there are bound to be many days—maybe many years—in which the joy of doing things will possess the life of the public man, when he will be accumulating experiences and recollections which will sweeten any bitter day which may later overtake him, when he will have the constant satisfaction of serving his country, and when he can be preparing himself to say, as Theodore Roosevelt said after losing his mayoralty fight in New York: "Anyway, I've had a bully time."
The Honorable George Higgins Moses, U. S.Senator from New Hampshire, continues the Dartmouth tradition of Webster, Choate, Chase, Wood-bury and many others of the distinguished line thathas started at Hanover and has continued by devious paths to Washington and the fame of highpositions in public life. At the close of 15 years ofservice in the country's highest legislative bodySenator Moses may well be given an attentive hearing in speaking of politics as a career. His campaignfor reelection the past fall, in which he was defeatedby his Democratic opponent, former GovernorFred H. Brown, Dartmouth 'O3, was heralded bythe Senator himself as his "sunset campaign."
After preparing at Exeter Senator Moses enteredDartmouth in 1886, graduating with the class of1890. He has since received two advanced degreesfrom Dartmouth—A.M. in 1893 and Doctor of Lawsin 1928. Upon graduation he became associatedwith the Concord "Monitor-Patriot" and soon tookan active part in New Hampshire politics. President Taft appointed him Minister to Greece andMontenegro in 1909. In 1918 he was elected to fillthe unexpired term of Senator Gallinger and hasbeen twice reelected, 1920 and 1926. He has beenpresident pro tempore of the Senate since 1925.Two years ago Senator Moses established the JamesFairbanks Colby Prize for achievement in PoliticalScience at Dartmouth. The award honors Professor-Emeritus Colby '72.
Senator Moses Suggests a New England Bloc
"Sons of the Wild Jackasses" Berryman, the cartoonist, says the Senator "is vindicated after all.'
"I've had a bully time"
A Dayin the lifeof Senator Moses(or any Senator)as pictured byGluyas Williamsin"LIFE."
U. S. Senator from New Hampshire
