Corruption in American politics and life

by Robert C. Brooks

CORRUPTION: A PERSISTENT PROBLEM OF POLITICAL AND SOCIAL LIFE

III
CORRUPTION: A PERSISTENT PROBLEM OF POLITICAL AND SOCIAL LIFE

In its broadest significance, corruption has been defined as “the intentional misperformance or neglect of a recognised duty, or the unwarranted exercise of power, with the motive of gaining some advantage more or less directly personal.” Evil of this sort may occur not only in the state, but also in the church, the family, in business associations, and every other kind of social body. One may infer from the nature of corruption itself that if developed to an extreme degree it will cause the dissolution of any organisation affected by it. Every social body requires as a prime condition of its existence a certain subordination of individual interest to the general interest. Corruption essentially means the preference of the former to the latter. If self-interest continuously grows more potent while group interest pari passu declines, evidently the social organisation so affected will weaken and finally die. “The king by judgment establisheth the land: but he that receiveth gifts overthroweth it.” Universally triumphant corruption, therefore, would destroy the body from which it had drawn the sustenance for its own parasitic life. Anarchy would be far preferable to the extreme logical consequences of corruption. For anarchy seeks to destroy only the compulsory political forms of human society, leaving men free to associate voluntarily in all other ways, whereas ultimate corruption would loosen every social bond and reduce humanity to the state of nature as Hobbes conceived it:—bellum omnium contra omnes.

Corruption, then, is a social disease that may terminate fatally. Social death does not always occur because of it, but from the social point of view it is always a pathological condition. Few of the great tragedies of history involving the fall of nations or of mighty institutions can be explained fully without reference to the antecedent corroding influence of corruption. It had a part in the decline of Greece and Rome, in the Protestant Reformation, the overthrow of the Stuart dynasty in England, the partition of Poland, and the French Revolution. Other causes contributed to these events and were perhaps more largely instrumental in bringing them about,—ignorance, inefficiency, tyranny, immorality, extravagance, and obstinacy,—but in each instance corruption was also present on a large scale. Even in cases of historical catastrophes where the crushing force was applied from the outside it is usually possible to discern how the victor’s path was smoothed by the disintegrating effect of corruption upon the social structure of the vanquished.[24] For this reason Europe fell more easily before Napoleon from 1796 to 1812, imperial France before Germany in 1870-’71, and Russia before Japan in 1904-’05.

While the disastrous consequences of widespread corruption as shown by such instances are not to be lightly underestimated, it is evident, on the other hand, that corrupt conditions may exist even on a considerable scale without bringing about the extreme penalty of disintegration or conquest. Recoveries little short of the miraculous are sometimes noted in this field of social pathology. It
would be difficult to conceive a lower stage of degradation than that reached by the English ministry and parliament during and immediately following the time of Walpole, yet to-day England enjoys the reputation of possessing one of the most honest and efficient governments in the world. American municipal reformers sometimes despair of any efficacious remedy for the corruption which prevails in our cities. They should take heart upon observing the degraded conditions which prevailed in Prussian municipalities prior to Stein’s Städteordnung of 1808, and in England prior to the Municipal Reform Act of 1835. In both instances formerly corrupt conditions have been succeeded by honest and efficient municipal systems which are observed with envy and commented upon with admiration the world over.

The conclusion which the foregoing illustrations seem to warrant is that while corruption is a pathological condition which in an extreme degree may lead to social death, it is also susceptible to treatment which may bring about recovery with renewed and even enhanced vigour. Between these two extremes every degree of partial strength or weakness may exist in a social body as a result of the presence or after effects of corruption. The Roman Church suffered a tremendous loss of influence in Western and Northern Europe as a result of the Reformation. It has never recovered this territory, but it survived as an institution which, modified by internal reforms, has acquired a greater influence and a greater number of communicants than the mediæval church ever dreamed of. Spain, partly through corruption, lost her colonial empire, but the mother country remains intact. True Lord Salisbury called it a “decadent nation,” but at least it is not in ruins. Germany was victor over corrupt imperial France in the last great European war. The progress of the Vaterland since that event seems phenomenal, but already uneasy voices, troubled at contemporary conditions, particularly in the army and the emperor’s immediate entourage, are raising the question: “What does the future hold for us,—Jena or Sedan?” Conquered in 1870-’71, the French, in Gambetta’s deathless words, nevertheless remained “a great nation which does not wish to die.” The history of the Third Republic has been besmirched at times by scandals of the most offensively corrupt character. Yet in spite of this and other national weaknesses the outside world is probably altogether too much inclined to underestimate the latent strength of modern France.

Contemplation of the general evils which may result from corruption suggests the possibility of eliminating it from social life. While such a condition of affairs may be looked upon as an ideal, it will nevertheless remain an ultimate ideal which can be approximated rather than realised, and that only by the most patient, determined, and continued effort. Every social organisation, as we have seen, presupposes the subordination in some measure of personal to broader interests. But no matter how far social integration is carried, and social duty correspondingly emphasised, there will always remain a field for individual effort. Absolute communism in which the state shall be everything and the individual nothing is unthinkable. Even where the individual as such is but little regarded, he will remain a member of small social groups, as e.g., the family or business corporation, the interests of which are almost if not quite as close to him as the interests of his naked ego. The lines bounding the two great fields of individual interest and social interest are variously drawn in different countries and at different times. No doubt they will be redrawn in the future, probably greatly to the extension of social functions if one may judge from the present drift. Always, however, the two great fields will remain, and the best results in each will depend partly upon the activities of the other. In the main these activities do not conflict, indeed they strongly reinforce one another. When the individual pursues his daily work diligently and intelligently, although primarily with a selfish end in view, he is nevertheless adding to national wealth and welfare. So also with most of the activities of the family, the church, the club, and the business corporation. In each of these cases, however, it is inevitable that conflicts will sometimes occur between individual and narrow group interests on the one hand, and broader social interests on the other. These conflicts may gradually take on less selfish and less dangerous forms, but will hardly disappear so long as the character of the individual and the constitution of society remain fundamentally unchanged. The problem of corruption, therefore, is a persistent one. There will always remain the possibility of moral struggle for improvement; there will never be absolute perfection in these extensive and involved relationships.

A very striking implication of the persistent character of the problem may be found in the fact that much of the current terminology of political science implies the presence of corruption as a common factor in the life of the state. To modern students Greek classifications of forms of government appear rather naive, considered simply as classifications, but many of the separate terms employed in them nevertheless remain in general use. Plato, for example, describes the decline of the pure Republic ruled by philosophers who are actuated by the highest motives, first into Timarchy, next into Oligarchy, then into Democracy in the sense of mob rule, and finally into Tyranny. We must infer that in the real world, as the Philosopher saw it, the number of perfect Republics, granting that such beatific political entities or any acceptable approximation to them could exist, would be far less than the number of degenerate states. The common characteristic of all the latter from Timarchy to Tyranny is the predominance of some form of personal or narrow group interest over the highest interests of the state. In other words the great majority of state forms as classified by Plato are to be distinguished by the degree and kind of corruption they exhibit. Aristotle’s distinction between pure forms of constitutions,—Royalty, Aristocracy, and Polity,—and the corresponding perverted forms,—Tyranny, Oligarchy, and Democracy,—is based fundamentally upon the existence of purity or corruption in the sovereign, whether it be composed of the one, few, or many. Dealing as he was largely with actual constitutions, Aristotle makes it clear that in the world as he knew it, the corrupt forms of government, particularly oligarchy and democracy, were much more common than the pure forms, that, in fact, some degree of corruption was frequent, and purity, on the other hand, exceptional in political life. Other classifications of states regardless of their moral condition are, of course, possible. Mr. Seeley has given us one that, for modern purposes, is certainly much more useful than the Aristotelian. The continued use of the latter in common speech and, to a somewhat less extent in historical and scientific discussion, is evidence, however, of a high degree of availability in describing actual political conditions or what are believed to be such. And since this terminology implies the existence of corruption as an ordinary accompaniment of political life, its wide acceptance and continued use strengthens the conviction that corruption in some form is a persistent problem of politics.

While the general problem bids fair to remain with us always, the particular forms and extent of corruption will be subject to change in the future as in the past. History justifies the hope that these changes will be for the better.[25] Many of the grosser forms of corruption current in earlier periods are impossible now. Charles II. was not the only king of his century who accepted corrupt subsidies from foreign monarchs. At the present time it is impossible to doubt that the essential loyalty of the executive heads of the principal civilised countries of the world would be demonstrated unmistakably in case they should be approached by corrupt solicitation from the outside. The modern spirit of nationality and patriotism would wreak tremendous vengeance upon any royal offender against it. The loyalty of contemporary monarchs, however, is probably due in very slight degree, if at all, to the fear of punishment. In addition to the responsibility enforced upon constitutional kings, a keener sense on their part of participation in the national spirit and higher standards both of personal rectitude and of international dealings make corruption of this sort well nigh unthinkable in the modern world. To a large measure also these virtues have been extended over the whole administrative service of civilised states and absorbed as a part of current moral practice. Hence even in the case of inferior officials who have been seduced by foreign bribes, as e.g., the sale of military plans and secrets, a heavy penalty of popular obloquy is added to the severe penalty of the law.

The mention of Charles II. suggests another form of corruption, the earlier wide extension of which is familiar to every reader of history. In times past royal mistresses appeared openly at court, secured titles of nobility and grants of land for themselves, their children, and their favourites, dictated appointments in the civil and military service, and overruled decisions of internal and foreign policy. It may be admitted that the sexual morality of some contemporary monarchs is not above reproach. Yet the evil, so far as it exists to-day, is largely personal, and is chiefly objectionable because of its unfavourable influence upon the family life of the people at large. No modern king ruling over a civilised country, it is safe to say, could openly flaunt his mistresses and allow it to be seen that his passion for them affected his policies as head of the state.

As another illustration of the disappearance of certain forms of corruption once extremely common the famous case of Lord Bacon may be cited. His offence as Lord Chancellor consisted not in the taking of presents from suitors, for to do so after judgment was the open practice of the time. Inadvertently, however, Bacon accepted a present before a case was decided, and this was made the basis of the charge of corruption which brought about his downfall. The morality of the time had reached a stage at which it perceived clearly the corrupting effect upon the judicial mind of presents in advance of a decision, and held them to be bribes. It had not reached the modern point of view that the expectation of a present after giving decision is also corrupting, particularly since the present of one of the litigants is very likely to be larger than that of the other. One can safely maintain that the open receipt of presents by judicial officers of higher rank is extremely rare in English speaking countries and in Western Europe at the present time. Judges of our own lower courts are sometimes accused of truckling to the party influences to which they owe their election, but so far as it exists this is a much more subtle and surreptitious form of corruption than present giving, or as it would frankly be called nowadays, bribe-giving by litigants.[26] Any approach, or even appearance of approach, to offences of the latter sort would call forth sharp expressions of condemnation. In his “Four Aspects of Civic Duty,” President Taft presents a very striking and acute argument on the necessity of the exercise of extreme circumspection by judicial officials which will serve to illustrate the progress in morals from Lord Bacon’s time to the present:

“A most important principle in the success of a judicial system and procedure is that the administration of justice should seem to the public and the litigants to be impartial and righteous, as well as that it should actually be so. Continued lack of public confidence in the courts will sap their foundations. A careful and conscientious judge will, therefore, strive to avoid every appearance from which the always suspicious litigants may suspect an undue leaning toward the other side. He will give patient hearing to counsel for each party, and, however clear the case may be to him when stated, he will not betray his conclusion until he has heard in full from the party whose position cannot be supported. More than this, it not infrequently happens, however clear his mind in the outset, that argument, if he has not a pride of first opinion that is unjudicial, may lead him to change his view.

“This same principle is one that should lead judges not to accept courtesies like railroad passes from persons or companies frequently litigants in their courts. It is not that such courtesies would really influence them to decide a case in favour of such litigants when justice required a different result; but the possible evil is that if the defeated litigant learns of the extension of such courtesy to the judge or the court by his opponent he cannot be convinced that his cause was heard by an indifferent tribunal, and it weakens the authority and the general standing of the court.

“I knew of one judge who indignantly declared that of course he accepted passes, because he would not admit, by declining them, that such a little consideration or favour would influence his decision. But in the view I have given above a different ground for declining them can be found than the suggestion that such a courtesy would really influence his judgment in a case in which the railroad company giving the courtesy was a party.”[27]

The intimate relation between present giving and bribery, suggests another illustration somewhat similar to the preceding. Readers of the famous diary of Samuel Pepys are familiar with the fact that in his official capacity as Clerk of the Acts and Surveyor General of the Victualling Office he often accepted presents. In one instance we find him quoting with grave approval the sage observation of his patron, Lord Sandwich, to the effect that “it was not the salary of any place that did make a man rich, but the opportunity of getting money while he is in the place.”[28] Venal as it may appear to the modern reader Pepys undoubtedly lived up to this precept, and owed to its consistent practice the very considerable property which he afterwards amassed. Yet one would be over hasty to conclude that the author of the “Diary” was an arch corruptionist. On the contrary he was so distinctly superior, both in efficiency and honesty, to most of his colleagues, that he won much well-merited recognition and succeeded in retaining office practically throughout the whole Restoration period in spite of the many upheavals and intrigues of that troublous time. While Pepys frankly admits that he accepted presents he insists that he never forgot the “King’s interest.” The manifest danger of allowing an official to measure in this way the quality of service due a sovereign, does not seem to occur to the diarist. On the other hand, he refers frequently, and usually in terms of condemnation, to many contemporaries in the administrative service who, at least in his opinion, were much less scrupulous than they should have been in determining the “King’s interest.” Thus he records the utterances of a certain Cooling, the Lord Chamberlain’s secretary and a veritable drunken roaring Falstaff of corruption, who boasted that “his horse was a bribe, and his boots a bribe; and told us he was made up of bribes, as an Oxford scholar is set out with other men’s goods when he goes out of town, and that he makes every sort of tradesman to bribe him; and invited me home to his house, to taste of his bribe wine.”[29] Sometimes, indeed, Pepys became involved in transactions where the “King’s interest,” as he measured it, received less than its due share of attention. We find him fearing investigation in such cases, and withdrawing from them with the resolution not to allow himself to become similarly involved again. Yet on the whole there is every evidence of a conscious feeling on his part of rectitude superior to the administrative morals of the time. That it was largely justified in spite of the receipt of gifts may be seen from Dr. Wheatley’s comment to the effect that “public men in those days, without private property, must have starved if they had not taken fees, for the King had no idea of wasting his money by paying salaries. At the time of Pepys’s death there was a balance of £28,007, 2 s. 1¼ d. due to him from the Crown, and the original vouchers still remain an heirloom in the family.”[30]

Appointments to public office have been a fruitful field for corruption in many forms. In his “Civil Service in Great Britain,” Mr. Dorman B. Eaton sums up the whole history of the disposal of patronage in England in the following statement:—“From the despotic system, under the Norman kings, through various spoils systems under arbitrary kings—through a sort of partisan system under Cromwell—through fearful corruption under James and Charles—through a sort of aristocratic spoils system under William and Anne—through a partisan spoils system under George I. and II., and a part of the reign of George III.—through the partisan system in its best estate in later years—we have traced the unsteady but generally ascending progress of British administration; and, in 1870, we shall find it to have reached a level at which office is treated as a trust and personal merit is the recognised criterion of selection for office.”[31] It would be a most absurd anachronism to regard all the earlier practices referred to by Mr. Eaton with the horror of a modern civil service reformer. Richard the Lion-Hearted could hardly have comprehended the advantage of competitive literary examinations open to all classes of his subjects as a means of selecting his subordinates. When under the Plantagenets and Tudors “charters and monopolies, in a fit of good nature, were tossed by a king to some borough, great officer, or favourite that had pleased him; and, in a fit of anger or drunkenness—as arbitrarily revoked,”[32] it must be remembered that neither the law nor the morals of the time severely condemned such actions. No wonder, therefore, that “the old system was bold, consistent, and outspoken—not pretending to make selections for office out of regard for personal merit or economy, or the general welfare. It plainly asserted that those in power had a right and duty to keep themselves in power and preserve their monopoly in any way which their judgement should approve, and that the people were bound to submit.”[33] Further “the right to appoint to office and to sell the appointment openly for money became also, and long remained, hereditary; sometimes in great families and sometimes in the holder for the time being of the offices themselves.”[34] No doubt the exercise of such rights of purchase was once regarded generally as no more objectionable than the sale of a private physician’s practice or the sale of the good will of a business at the present time. But while the various earlier methods of disposing of the patronage as sketched by Mr. Eaton must be judged with reference to contemporary political morality, it is true that each of them in turn fell into disrepute, was abolished—often only after several trials—and finally superseded by a less faulty system. Even as far back as Magna Charta the existence of a faint conception of the modern civil service principle is made plain by the Forty-fifth Article, according to which the King engaged not to “make any justices, constables, sheriffs, or bailiffs, but of such as know the law of the realm.” All the great subsequent uprisings of English history were directed in part against certain other abuses of the corrupt patronage system. The Tyler and Cade Rebellions in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the great Civil War, the expulsion of James II., the overthrow of Walpole, the failure of George III.’s attempt at personal government,—each marked a higher standard of public sentiment on the question. Between 1820 and 1870, the great modern civil service reform orders were passed, resulting in the final establishment of open competition for over 80,000 positions under the English government. Opportunities for corrupt practices in connection with appointment to office are, of course, not entirely excluded even by so thoroughgoing a system as that which now exists in England, but they are few and unimportant indeed compared to the possibilities of selfish abuses under former régimes.

It is by no means necessary to review the whole sweep of a nation’s history in order to observe the discarding of old, and the evolution of newer and usually less dangerous forms of corruption. Such a career as that of Tweed would be impossible in any American city to-day. The crude methods he employed,—raising bills, throwing contracts to members of the Ring, keeping false books, delaying financial reports,—would certainly and promptly send any one who attempted them at the present time to the penitentiary. Indeed no small part of existing municipal legislation can be traced back to the specific misdeeds of Tweed and others of his ilk. On the other hand it must be admitted that the ablest corruptionists sometimes show skill little short of genius in devising new schemes to avoid the pitfalls of existing law and in keeping always just beyond the grasp of new enactments. Mr. Steffens tells a story of Chris Magee, former boss of Pittsburgh, to the effect that he visited and made a most careful study of the machines of Philadelphia and New York and particularly of their defects, finally returning to his own city with the conviction that a “ring could be made as safe as a bank.”[35] In this field, as in the ethics of business management and elsewhere, there will probably always be a running duel between anti-social action and legislation designed to check it. Novel methods of corruption will constantly require novel methods of correction. In the nature of the case the law will usually be slightly behind the artifices of the most skilful corruptionists: abuses must exist and be felt as such before the government can successfully define and punish them. On the other hand this constant development of the law should make corrupt practices increasingly difficult for the less gifted rascals who must always constitute the great majority of would-be offenders. As things are now the ignorant heeler, and even the crooked tool who has received an ordinary education, realise that they cannot play the game alone. Their only hope of escaping the penitentiary is in the service of the machine whose leaders understand the legal requirements of the situation, and possess the skill or influence necessary to circumvent them.

While the consequences of corruption must in general be weakening and disintegrating, their full import may be concealed or postponed owing to the limitation of the evil condition to certain branches or spheres of government which for the time being are not called upon to function to their full capacity. A chain is no stronger than its weakest link, but it may serve very well so long as no great tensile strain is applied to it. The military arm of a government otherwise honest and efficient might conceivably become well nigh paralysed by corruption without any particular evil consequences so long as hostilities were avoided. All the more terrible, on the other hand, would be the awakening in case of the advent of war. The reverse case is suggested by Tennyson:

“Let your reforms for a moment go!

Look to your butts and take good aims!

Better a rotten borough or so

Than a rotten fleet and a city in flames!”

Here the point is that a corrupt local government need occasion little or no disadvantage during a state of war provided the army can be relied upon thoroughly. Further the poet warns against agitation for the reform of internal abuses lest it might weaken the country in the presence of a foreign foe. Doubtless both points are well taken so far as an immediate emergency is concerned. If war is not imminent, however, that government would certainly be making the best preparation against future trouble which sought to establish the highest standard of honesty in both its civil and military services. Thus the Freiherr vom Stein immeasurably strengthened Prussia for the final conflict with Napoleon by reforming the rotten boroughs of his country and appealing on the basis of this reform to the patriotism of the liberal classes of his fellow citizens. Moreover there would seem to be little real danger of urging internal reforms so violently during periods of warfare as to cripple military strength. Of course if a government has been reduced to the last extremity of unpopularity by past mismanagement, revolutionists might take advantage of a declaration of war to tear it to pieces, hailing foreign troops as allies rather than opponents. In the more advanced countries of the modern world, however, the spirit of nationality and patriotism is so highly developed that internal reforms are instantly relegated to the background at the least threat of foreign embroilment. To such peoples the poet’s adjuration to

“Let your reforms for a moment go”

is hardly needed.

Definite instances of corruption affecting certain spheres or departments of government particularly may readily be suggested. There is much that is significant in the corruption of the judicial officials of China. Ultimately they became so rapacious that merchants feared to come before them, preferring to leave commercial differences to be settled by the arbitration of officers of guilds of which the business men themselves were members. Thus corruption of one social organ may lead to its atrophy and the corresponding strengthening of another social organ which takes over the functions of the former. Assuming that the function is as well performed in the second case, the internal life of the whole structure in which the transition takes place may be very little affected except while the change is going on. If, however, the state is continually weakened by such transfers while at the same time the functions remaining to it become rotten with corruption it may finally reach the condition of abject defencelessness which China has shown in its relations with other nations.

Another very curious case of corruption limited to certain spheres of government is furnished by Japan. In his authoritative work on that country,[36] Captain Brinkley expresses the opinion that the higher and lower official classes are free from corruption while the middle grade is more or less given over to it. The passage containing this statement is so germane to the present discussion that it may be quoted in full:

“There is an old and still undecided controversy among foreign observers as to bribery in Japan. Many Japanese romancists introduce the douceur in every drama of life, and historical annals show that from the seventeenth century downward Japanese rulers legislated against bribery with a degree of strenuous persistence which seems to imply conviction of its prevalence. Not only were recipients of bribes severely punished, but informers also received twice the amount in question. Japanese social relations, too, are maintained largely by the giving and taking of presents. Visits to make or renew an acquaintance are always accompanied by gifts; the four seasons of the year are similarly marked; even deaths call for a contribution to funeral expenses; nearly all services are ‘recognised,’ and guests carry back from their entertainer’s house a box of confectionery or other edibles in order that the households may not be entirely excluded from the feast. The uses of such a system evidently verge constantly on abuses, and prepare the observer to find that if the normal intercourse of life sanctions these material aids, abnormal occasions are likely to demand them in much greater profusion. All evidence thus far obtained goes to prove that Japanese officials of the highest and lowest classes are incorruptible, but that the middle ranks are unsound. A Japanese police constable will never take a bribe nor a Japanese railway employé a pour boire, and from Ministers of State to chiefs of departmental bureaux there is virtual freedom from corruption. But for the rest nothing can be claimed, and to the case of tradespeople, inferior agents, foremen of works, contractors, and so on, the Japanese proverb may probably be applied that ‘even hell’s penalties are a matter of money.’”

A third illustration of the uneven distribution of corruption throughout a political structure may be found in our own case. In the United States, as is well known, the general opinion of the honesty and efficiency of the federal government is extremely high; state government enjoys considerably less repute; and municipal government is pretty commonly and indiscriminately condemned. Even in the case of the latter, however, it is worth while to observe that in some cities otherwise considered almost hopelessly bad, certain departments, notably public schools and fire protection, are recognised as being managed on a much higher plane than other branches of the municipal service. In such cases public recognition of the importance of the departments concerned has led to an insistence on efficiency and honesty that has proven effective. The conclusion would seem to be well founded, therefore, that a proper recognition by our city population of the vital importance of other branches of the service, such as sanitation, refuse disposal, water supply, building and housing inspection, letting of contracts, and so on, would go far toward bringing about much needed improvements.

It would also appear that corruption may be omnipresent and yet not extremely harmful because of the moderation of its demands. A practical politician once remarked that “the people will never kick on a ten per cent rake off.” It is quite possible that the effort to wipe out so modest a tribute by a reform agitation opposed to the principle of the thing might cost more in effort or even in campaign expenses than would be represented by the saving to the municipal treasury or public. Obviously, however, the advisability of an effort for the establishment of honest government is not to be calculated in financial values only. The moral effect of a corrupt exaction of ten per cent which no one thinks it worth while to attack may be worse than the moral effect of a fifty per cent exaction which is vigorously condemned. A purely Machiavellian machine leader may also discern a degree of danger lurking in a government ten per cent corrupt due to the very fact that the electorate accepts it with quiescence. Under such conditions it is difficult to convince the more greedy minor politicians that while they can get ten per cent without a murmur they could not take twenty or even fifteen per cent without serious trouble. The great expenses of political management which the leaders are called upon to meet must also incline them at times to exactions beyond the verge of prudence.

From the point of view of an organisation politician, therefore, the determination of the limits within which corruption seems safe is a serious and ever present problem. Certain features of the situation may be noted as exerting an influence in favour of a moderate policy. One of these is the contractual nature of many corrupt practices that are alleged to be common. For example, franchises sought by dishonest means usually possess a value which is pretty exactly known to the intending purchasers. The amount which they are actually willing to pay may be determined only after close bargaining and the allowance of a large discount owing to the danger inseparable from this method of acquisition. Immunity to carry on businesses under the ban of the law is subject to the same rule.

The “Gambling Commission” which was said to exist in New York in 1900-’01, and to have been “composed of a Commissioner who is at the head of one of the city departments, two State Senators, and the dictator of the pool-room syndicate of this city,”[37] owed its partial exposure to a violation of this rule. The “Commission” was alleged to have established a regular tariff for the various forms of gambling as follows:—Pool Rooms, $300 per month; Crap Games, and Gambling Houses (small), $150 per month; Gambling Houses (large), $1000 per month; Envelope Games, $50 per month. These rates would seem sufficiently high to provoke complaint from those who had to pay them. Nevertheless the exposure, which came from the gamblers themselves, was not so much due to the size of the exactions as to the great increase in the number of the gambling houses which the “Commission” licensed in order to secure larger revenues. In the end, as one member of the sporting fraternity phrased it, “there were not enough suckers to go ’round.” The whole incident illustrates the principle, if the word can be used in such an unhallowed connection, that in order to enjoy any permanent success, corruption must by all means avoid extreme rapacity; it must endeavour to keep alive that which it feeds on. Castro, for example, was a highwayman rather than a grafter. He lacked the moderation, the fine sense of proportion, necessary to qualify one for success in the latter rôle. To paraphrase a familiar principle of taxation, a part of income may be taken but corrupt encroachments on capital sums are dangerous.

Prudential considerations restraining corruption are apt to be much more keenly felt by a thoroughly organised machine than in cases where corruption is practised by disorganised groups and individuals each seeking its or his own advantage regardless of any common interest. The “cohesive power of public plunder,” as President Cleveland ponderously phrased it, may thus come to operate as a moderating force. Notoriously corrupt city governments have not infrequently distinguished themselves by maintaining extremely low tax rates, or at least rates which appear to be low. Largely on this basis a quasi-philosophic defence of corrupt municipal rule was made several years ago by Daniel G. Thompson.[38] Arguing that some degree of corruption was inevitable in all political organisations, he held that they should be regarded by the voter in exactly the same light as bidders for a contract. Government should simply be handed over to the organisation making, all things considered, the lowest bid, which in New York city, Mr. Thompson thought, would usually be Tammany Hall. The argument is so thoroughly feudal in its conception of politics that one finds it difficult to believe in the author’s entire sincerity, although this is flatly asseverated throughout the book. Moral objections similar to those employed against the doctrine of the inviolability of a “ten per cent rake-off” thoroughly dispose of any rational claim it may make to attention. Political experience is also against it. Reform movements particularly in municipalities may be laughed at as “spasms,” but these movements, which are usually based largely on charges of corruption, occur so frequently as to discredit the belief that purely prudential considerations on the part of corruptionists will restrain effectively the excesses of their demands. Supine acceptance by the electorate of the “lowest bidder” theory would speedily result in the submission of none but extortionately high bids. In the long run “millions for defence but not one cent for tribute” is a sentiment quite as justifiable economically as ethically.

To recapitulate the preceding argument,—the structure of society, no matter how completely evolved and generally beneficial to the highest human interests, is nevertheless such that when brought into contact with natural human egoism it offers access at many points to the onslaughts of corruption. The evil consequences may be extreme, or only severe, or in time they may be completely overcome. History furnishes examples of all three eventualities. It also bears witness to the fact that many gross and threatening forms of corruption that were once prevalent have been eliminated from the life of civilised nations. Those which remain to afflict us are the object of vigorous corrective measures which are constantly being extended and strengthened. Corrupt practices are found to be limited in some cases to certain branches or spheres of government with consequences of varying degrees of danger to the national life. Or they may be limited in amount or percentage by various prudential considerations on the part of political leaders who, however, are far from being sufficiently restrained in this way as social welfare requires. While corruption thus appears to be a persistent problem of social and political life it is far from being a hopeless one. In the words of Professor Henry C. Adams,[39] its solution “is a continuous task, like the cleansing of the streets of a great city, or the renewing of a right purpose within the human heart.”