The Nation gave the jewel of liberty into the hands of the [Negroes], armed them with the weapons of self-government, and said: “Ye are many; protect what ye have received.” Then it took away its hand, turned away its eyes, closed its ears to every cry of protest or of agony, and said: “We will not aid you nor protect you. Though you are ignorant, from you we will demand works of wisdom. Though you are weak, great things shall be required at your hands.” Like the ancient taskmaster, the Nation said: “_There shall no straw be given you, yet shall ye deliver the tale of bricks._” Nearly seventy years later, in _The Crack in the Column_, Weller said virtually the same thing. But this time both the problem and the stakes were global. The picture of American politics which emerges from the political novel is an unflattering one. Although the “smoke-filled room” may be a cliché in the newspapers, it is a fact in the novel. The deck of candidates is shuffled, cut, and dealt--often from the bottom. The national conventions are a combination of circus spectacle and cynical chicanery. And after campaigns financed by funds from special interest groups, the people’s chosen representatives get down to the serious business of paying off their debts while lining their pockets. The crusaders for liberty and justice who appear can be set off against these political liabilities. But the electorate in whose behalf they struggle often seems unaware of the importance of the fight. Inheritors of a tradition of dissent and individual freedom, they are fair game for demagogues. They are also easy marks for the revolutionaries who, for perverted purposes, exploit their sincere but naïve desire for social and economic reform. Although the Republic somehow seems to weather periods of internecine violence and reversion to authoritarian rule, its citizens have a bad case of myopia in the field of foreign affairs. There are indications, though, that the corrective lenses bought in two world wars are beginning to bring distant events into focus. The American novelist’s view of his own political arena agrees surprisingly well with many foreign estimates of it. The American seems like an immature giant who tolerates much rough behavior but rushes into conflict when he feels that his basic security is threatened. Now the giant seems to be settling down. Still likely to make violent moves, he is acquiring some of the political sophistication that was, perhaps, too early expected of him. ITALY: A SELF-PORTRAIT