ce, and of its being the most
high and perfect and most complete thing that he can render--the thing
that he, out of all men, could think of and do, and that the crowd would
want him to do. He is busy in being obedient to the crowd, in fulfilling
daily its spirit, and not in taking orders from it.

The reason that the larger number of men who go into politics to-day are
inefficient and do not get the things done that crowds want, is that
they are the kind of men who feel that they must talk and act like
servants. Even the most independent-looking and efficient men, who look
as if they really saw something and had something to give, often prove
disappointing. When one comes to know a man of this type more
intimately, one is apt to find that he is really a flunkey in his
thoughts; that he feels hired in his mind; that he is the valet of a
crowd, and often, too, the valet of some particular crowd--some little,
safe, shut-in crowd, party, or special interest that wants to own, or to
keep, or to take away a world.

Whichever way to-day one looks, one finds this illusion as to what a
public servant really is, for the moment, corrupting our public life.

But Christ did not say, "He that is greatest among you, let him be your
valet."

The man who is greatest among us, neither in this age nor in any other,
ever will or ever can be a valet. He faces the crowd the way Christ
did--with his life, with his soul, with his God.

He will not be afraid of the Crowd....

He will be the Greatest, he will be a Servant.

In the meantime--in the hour of the valets, only the little crowds,
speak. The People wait.

The Crowd is dumb, massive, and silent. There seems to be no one in the
world to express it, to express its indomitable desire, its prayer, to
lay at last its huge, terrible, beautiful will upon the earth.

It is the classes or little crowds--the little pulling and pushing,
helpless, lonely, mean, separated crowds--blind, hateful, and afraid,
who are running about trying to lay their little wills upon the earth.

The Crowd waits and is not afraid.

The little, separated crowds are afraid.

The world, for the moment, is being interpreted, expressed, and managed
by People Who Are Afraid.

It is the same in all the nations. In the coal strike in England one
finds the miners in the trades unions afraid to vote except in secret
because they are afraid of one another. One finds the miners' leaders
afraid of the men under th