XVIII
A GLORIOUS VICTORY
Narcissus saw his image, and fell in love with it,
But jilted pretty Echo, who wailed and never quit.
This beauteous youth was far less kind than I, my friend, or you:
For we adore our own good looks and love our echoes, too.
—Adventures in Egoism.
I really shrink from giving an account of the result of the Bellevale caucuses next evening, for fear of imparting to the general reader—who is, of course, a violent patriot—the idea that I am narrating facts showing an exceptionally bad condition in municipal affairs, in the triumph of one or the other of two bad men. This impression I should be loath to give. Colonel McCorkle, whom we know by hearsay only, seems to be so good a citizen that his belated attempt to be "broad" and "liberal" excites laughter in some quarters. As for Mr. Brassfield, there are at least nine chances in ten that he is the man who would have received the support of the gentle reader had it been his own city's campaign.
In fact, Mr. Brassfield is psychologically incapable of deviating much from the course marked out by the average ethics of his surroundings. This subconscious mind which—as Professor Blatherwick so clearly explained to us—normally operates below the plane of consciousness, happens, in his case, to be abnormally acting consciously; but it is still controlled by suggestion. The money-making mania being in all minds, he becomes a money-maker. The usual attitude of society toward all things—including, let us say, women, poetry, politics and public duty—is the one into which the Brassfield mind inevitably fell. The men on whom any age bestows the accolade of greatness, are those who embody the qualities—virtues and vices—of that age. Your popular statesman and hero is merely the incarnate Now. Every president is to his supporters "fit to rank with Washington and Lincoln." Future ages may accord to him only respectable mediocrity; but the generation which sees itself reflected in him, sees beauty and greatness in the reflection. Bellevale was psychically reflected in Brassfield. Therefore Bellevale raised him on the shield of popularity. One may see this reflected in the conversation of Major Pumphrey, one of Bellevale's solid citizens, with Mr. Smith, who owned the department store, on the morning after the caucuses.
"Rather lively times, I hear," said Major Pumphrey, catching step with Mr. Smith on their walk down town. "Rather lively times at the caucuses last evening."
"Really," answered Mr. Smith, "I don't know. I never attend caucuses. Every one has his friends, you know, and by not taking sides one saves many enmities."
"I don't agree with you," said the major. "Every one should attend his party primaries, as a matter of duty."
"You were out last night?" said the merchant interrogatively.