It is very easy to see that perfection is not in any of the other political parties. During a political campaign, not long since, I wrote to a friend in New Jersey,—
"Now, whatever your particular, personal brand of political faith, it is clearly your moral duty to vote this time the Democratic ticket."
Whereupon (and he is a thoughtful, God-fearing man, too) he wrote back,—
"As I belong to the only party of real reform, I shall stick to it this year, as I always have, and vote the straight ticket."
Is there a serener faith than this human faith in perfection? A surer, more unshakable belief than this human belief in the present possession of it?
There is only one thing deeper in the heart of man than his desire for completeness, and that is his conviction of being about to attain unto it. He dreams of completeness by night; works for completeness by day; buys it of every agent who comes along; votes for it at every election; accepts it with every sermon; and finds it—momentarily—every time he finds himself. The desire for it is the sweet spring of all his satisfactions; the possession of it the bitter fountain of many of his woes.
Apply the conviction anywhere, to anything—creeds, wives, hens—and see how it works out.
As to hens:—
There are many breeds of fairly good hens, and I have tried as many breeds as I have had years of keeping hens, but not until the poultry show, last winter, did I come upon the perfect hen. I had been working toward her through the Bantams, Brahmas, and Leghorns, to the Plymouth Rocks. I had tried the White and the Barred Plymouth Rocks, but they were not the hen. Last winter I came upon the originator of the Buff Plymouth Rocks—and here she was! I shall breed nothing henceforth but Buff Plymouth Rocks.
In the Buff Rock we have a bird of ideal size, neither too large nor too small, weighing about three pounds more than the undersized Leghorn, and about three pounds less than the oversized Brahma; we have a bird of ideal color, too—a single, soft, even tone, and no such barnyard daub as the Rhode Island Red; not crow-colored, either, like the Minorca; nor liable to all the dirt of the White Plymouth Rocks. Being a beautiful and uniform buff, this perfect Plymouth Rock is easily bred true to color, as the vari-colored fowls are not.