Topic 14
HIS HOLD ON THE PUBLIC

MANY have asked the secret of Roosevelt's wonderful hold on the public, and his ability to carry a crowd with him.  Presumably the question will be discussed long after those who heard him have crossed the Great Divide, and with as wide, if not as great, a difference of opinion as when he was in the flesh.

His own explanation may be given in one word: "Sincerity."

This, he maintained, was the real secret, though he admitted that other qualities in his speeches were contributing factors.

The discussion in which the Colonel declared himself on this point came one night when he and a party of three were returning to New York from a red hot Roosevelt meeting — two meetings, in fact, one in a hall, the other outside.

It was precipitated by a remark by A.  Leonard Smith of the New York Times, to the effect that the Colonel "certainly had that crowd."

"What seemed to get them?" asked the Colonel.

It was a question none in the party could answer, for the crowd, like most Roosevelt crowds, was enthusiastic from the start, and one could not say that this, that, or the other point had been the most effective.  Smith ended this phase of the discussion' by declaring the Colonel "always got the crowd."

"My observation," said he, "has been that the result is the same whatever you talk upon — you get the crowd just the same."

"What," asked the Colonel, "is the explanation? It certainly is not because I am an orator — for I am not.  I have n't the voice to be an orator.  What Is it?"

Smith submitted, "Probably because your words always carry a punch," as his answer.  Another in the group thought it might be because the Colonel "always had something to say."

"Is n't it because the crowd always knows I am sincere?" asked the Colonel.  "I think it is.  Other wise— bah!" (this with a wave of his hand) "it surely must be that in the years I have been in public life, folks have always found me sincere.  Men do not always agree with me; in fact" (this whimsically) "many have been known to differ with me very seriously; but my worst enemies do not, I believe, question my sincerity.  Men who do not know me may doubt my sincerity, but no one who knows me does.  At bottom, I do not believe any of the "Old Guard," Bill Barnes included, would question my sincerity.  They know better.

"What you say about my having the punch is, perhaps, a factor; but my speeches would never get over if people did not believe I was sincere.  An orator, which I am not, would get a crowd, perhaps, but he could not hold them if he lacked sincerity, or if the people thought he did.

"We have all seen orators come and go, but none ever retained a hold on any perceptible part of the public who at least did not carry the impression of sincerity.

" I have never hesitated to say a thing because it might be unpopular any more than I have ever found it at all necessary to say things I did not believe merely because they might be popular.  In the end, as Emerson says, truth, however unpleasant, is the safest traveling companion.  I have never found it at all necessary to pussyfoot or indulge in pleasing sophistries to hold any crowd.

"On the other hand, I have never hesitated to tell folks unpleasant things I thought they should be told, any more than I have been afraid of hecklers."

Far from being afraid of hecklers, Colonel Roosevelt rejoiced in them.  Again and again, in the 1916 campaign, local leaders, fearful he might offend somebody, would ask that he go slow, lest hecklers disturb him.

Once, a United States Senator asked that he confine his talk to the tariff.

" My dear Senator," said he, "you will pardon me for saying I will do nothing of the kind.  I did not come here to talk tariff, the crowd did not come here to hear me talk tariff, and I’ll be hanged if I do talk tariff.  I'll talk what is in me."

"But, Colonel," persisted the local man, "we know that there is an organized plan to heckle you if you talk war and preparedness."

"So!" said the Colonel, "so?"

"Yes, Colonel, there will be many hecklers there."

Roosevelt, annoyed for an instant, suddenly broke into a grin.

"Jack," he called to me in much the same manner that a small boy would announce ice cream would be served at dinner, "did you hear that? The Senator here promises us that we'll have some hecklers tonight! Is n't that bully?"

There were hecklers that night — just two of them.  Their efforts served to emphasize the Colonel's points, both giving him openings he was quick to take advantage of to the delight of his audience.  On the way to the train I remarked that the dreaded questioners had not made much progress.

"Of course they did n't," he replied.  "They seldom if ever do.  A man with an honest question has no terrors for a speaker who is honest himself.  A dishonest heckler has no chance with an honest speaker.  "But if a man is sincere — he has nothing to fear.  If he is n't sincere — he has no business speaking.  In the long run, sincerity must be the test of any public man."