men's ideas, Hay's or Wilson's and justifies them or makes them
practical. His New York constitution failed, being unjustly
suspected. His world court has little better hope of acceptance,
for Mr. Hughes is not a voluntary sharer of glory.

In spite of it all, some greatness remains, the impression of a
powerful though limited intelligence. His career was to give us a
moral. It is: if you have an adroit and energetic mind you will
find public affairs uninteresting; except in their occasional
phases. If you have such a mind and must enter politics, hide it;
otherwise democracy will distrust you. Whatever you do, be dull.

HIRAM JOHNSON

Hiram Johnson would have enjoyed the French Revolution, if accident
had made him radical at that time. He would have been stirred by
the rising of the people; he would have given tongue to their
grievances in a voice keyed to lash them to greater fury. He would
have been excited by it as he never has been by the little risings
of the masses which he has made vocal. In all the noisy early
phases of it, he would have made the loudest noise. And he would
have gone to the block when the real business of the revolution
began with the fanatics at its helm.

In the Russian Revolution, he would have been a Kerensky; and he
would have fled when the true believers in change arrived. He is
the orator of emeutes, who is fascinated by a multitude in a
passion.

Johnson is not a revolutionary. Not in the least, not any more than
Henry Cabot Lodge is. But revolution has a fierce attraction for
him. He once said to me, speaking bitterly during the campaign, of
Mr. Harding's prospective election, "The war has set back the
people for a generation. They have bowed to a hundred repressed
acts. They have become slaves to the government. They are
frightened at the excesses in Russia. They are docile; and they
will not recover from being so for many years. The interests which
control the Republican party will make the most of their docility.
In the end, of course, there will be a revolution, but it will not
come in my time."

That "it will not come in my time" was said in a tone of regret. It
was not so much that the Senator wanted revolution. I do not
believe he did. But he wanted his chance, that outburst of popular
resentment which would bring him to the front, with the excitement,
the sense of power that would come from the response of the nation
when his angry voice translated into words