Although a naïve economist, I am quite conscious of the way in which the forces of inertia, self-interest, and sentiment combine to give persistent vitality to those two old parties which, so far as ideas are concerned, are so perfect an example of the embalmer's art. Not only do these parties have the network of precinct and local organization upon which effective political work must rest, but they also furnish to ambitious men and women the sole avenues to immediate political power. Perhaps most important of all is the fact that their trade-marks and totemistic deities tap large wellsprings of genuine, if benighted, sentiment in the hearts of millions of humble and undistinguished men and women. To the farmers of the Middle West, the Republican party is still a glorious fellowship of the consecrated Knights of the Grail, who, in times past, prevented slavery from creeping up the Mississippi Valley, gave homesteads to the people, fought the Civil War, and bequeathed Abraham Lincoln to the ages. Similarly, nostalgic Southerners regard the Democratic party as an integral part in that vista of the glorious days before the Civil War when cotton was king and their statesmen dominated Capitol Hill, and also as the corporate representative of that chivalrous group of men in white armor who finally overthrew carpet-bag government and negro domination, and who by their efforts finally made Southern Caucasian civilization free at last.

Such being the assets of the old parties as going concerns, it is not surprising that progressively minded leaders like Senators Norris and Borah should wish to stay inside the party breastworks and utilize the accumulated resources of organization and sentiment for their own purposes, rather than to surrender the good-will value of the party label to their opponents.