REPUBLICAN WOMEN OF MARYLAND 281

sarios of business and commerce closed their shops and forever fled?
In changing American life, have we in fact condemned it to lifeless-
ness?

It is not William Buckley or Walter Lippmann speaking but David
Reisman who decrys the "other-directed man, " the man who in dis-
covering adjustment loses his soul, and now the issue takes on a fas-
cinating irony with tremendous implication. It is not the critic but
the author who tells us the work is unworthy. It is not the receiver
but the giver who articulates the evil. It is not the OUTS trying to
depose the INS that's causing the ruckus but the INS trying to find
the way out that mocks the progress of two generations and sends trem-
ors of doubt reverberating through the Great and Hollow Society.
"Americans have no great nostalgia for the past, " proclaims Andrew
Hacker, but the Liberal Establishment is not so sure that a little going
back might not prove helpful and that a little purposeful rest and re-
consideration might not prove revitalizing.

What good are revolutions if we are swallowed up by them? For
how long can innovation masquerade as substance? Has our nation's
talent for acquiring wealth left its people impoverished? In this di-
lemma of spirit and conscience, the impassioned liberal begins to
sound like the ardent conservative, images become blurred. The left
moves to the right and the right moves to the left until suddenly they
are no longer miles apart but standing face-to-face. An era of experi-
mentation, innovation and accommodation nears its end. Consolida-
tion is the theme of our times. The day of reconciliation has arrived!

And now a sleeping giant, the Republican Party, stirs. For fifty-six
of the seventy-two years prior to 1932 he ruled the land but in only
eight of the past thirty-five years has he been more than a wayfaring
stranger to the highest post of power.

Our Republican giant was "disinherited and dispossessed. " His
legions accounting for thirty-eight percent of voters in 1940 slipped to
twenty-five percent by 1964, and in that year he fell in battle suffering
almost mortal wounds — rejected by a society he had helped to build,
scorned by a people he had served and served well, unfamiliar to a
new generation with little reverence for the past.

Had the giant in fact expired, it would not have been murder or
natural death by history's verdict but pure and premeditated suicide.
The Republican Party baptized by Abraham Lincoln, evangelized by
Theodore Roosevelt, spiritualized by the faith of farmers, had lost
sight of the human rebellion seething under the surface of the indus-