herself, the step all cities in America must take if they would free themselves from their masters—that of nonpartizan municipal elections.
XXXII
The predilection of the Ohio man for politics, I
believe, is well known in this land, where it is generally
identified with a love for office. There is a
reproach implied in the reputation which we perhaps
deserve. An Ohio man goes into politics as
naturally as a Nova Scotian goes to sea, and yet
not all Nova Scotians go to sea. They all love the
sea perhaps, but they do not all care to become
sailors. And so with us Ohioans. We all love politics,
though fortunately we do not all care to hold
office, even if most people do smile indulgently when
the modest disinclination is expressed. Perhaps such
scepticism is quite natural in a land so saturated in
privilege that even office holding is regarded in that
light—or was until recently, for now a new conception
is expanding in the public consciousness and
there is hope that ere long public office will be regarded
as a responsibility. I was quite sure that
I did not care to be a councilman—that weekly
wrangle, by night, in a room choking with the fumes
of cheap tobacco, known as the session of the common
council, was far from my tastes. And when
the mayoralty was suggested to me I was quite as
certain that I did not wish that. For it was not
long after the death of Jones that it was suggested;
by Tom Johnson for one, who, in his blunt way, told
