escape the other.nStill, given the incentives and thenpersonalities involved, one ought not tonbe surprised at the level of support fornthe pro-market public interest groups.nIndeed, if one removes the civil rightsngroups from the analysis, the left-leaningngroups have an advantage of justn$9.6 million to $8.1 million. Certainntypes of right-leaning groups are verynsuccessful: those which support removingnregulatory burdens from business,nand those which litigate against groupsnthat harass corporations. So what’snnew; the business community seems tonbe supporting its short-term self-interest,nas it always has.nTo the cynic, the shock is thatngeneral interest, pro-market groups arensupported at all. The fact of the matternis that markets are dangerous to thenhealth of any particular firm. As F.A.nHayek has made so clear, the marketnhelps the consumer and disciplinesnbusinesses. Schumpeter called thenmarket the process of “creative destruction,”nmeaning it is inefficientnbusinessmen who are destroyed by thendisciplinary forces of the market.nIt is essential that friends of thenmarket recognize that when businessmennsupport capitalism, they are performingna heroic and altruistic act.nThey are supporting a social good overnwhat might not be in their short-termninterest — which means, of course, thatntheir behavior is going to be the exceptionnrather than the rule. That businessncannot save capitalism was Schumpeter’snpoint, and he predicted that governmentnwould keep eating away at thenmarket, increasingly fettering it andncreating the demand for more regulationnto correct new problems, until thensystem fell apart from its accumulatedninefficiencies. Capitalism could onlynbe saved if a political class loyal to itncould be “developed before the end.nIn short, Schumpeter predicted JimmynCarter and hoped for Ronald Reagan.nUnfortunately, the political classncreated around Reagan has atrophied,nand recreating it will be painfully slow.nIn that effort, which itself is problematic,none can be grateful for those businessmennwho can look towards thencommon good served by the marketnand who are willing to support groupsnthat promote it. Yet such men cannotndo the job without the necessary politicalnclass to lead the fight. Building thatnpolitical class is the challenge of then21st century, one that will require thenassistance of every friend of the freenmarketplace.nDonald Devine is president of anmanagement consulting firm innAlexandria, Virginia.nCraft and thenCraftsmannby R.S. GwynnnSecret Destinations: SelectednPoems 1977-1988nby Charles CausleynBoston: David R. Godine;n118 pp., $9.95 papernWhen Charies Causley’s CollectednPoems was published inn1975, reviewers in American magazinesngenerally praised his work butnsomehow managed to relegate him tonthe limbo of minor poets. By focusingnon his mastery of the ballad, they maynhave given the impression of a JohnnynOne-Note who, in his idiosyncraticndisregard for the main currents of modernism,nwas engaged in an attempt tonwrite as if Pound and Eliot had notnexisted. Here, in the opening stanzasnof a poem in a characteristic mode,nCausley chronicles the fortunes of errantnyouth:nMy friend Maloney, eighteen,nSwears like a sentry.nGot into trouble two years backnWith the local gentry.nParson and squire’s sonsnInformed a copper.nThe magistrate took one looknat Maloney.nFixed him proper.nThis is squarely in the honorable linenof descent that begins with the anonymousnfolk ballads of the late MiddlenAges and counts among its later scionsnDavidson and Hardy. But what is onento make of verse like this, with its comicnrhymes and erratic meters, when itnissues from a poet of the present day?nThe tradition of English modernism,nwhile catholic enough to include bothnthe intellectualism and discursiveness ofnEliot and Auden and the musical andnnnrhetorical flourishes of Thomas andnBarker, establishes few precedents fornthis sort of faux-naif plainsong. Thenequivalent American approach wouldnbe to frame the observations in thenabrupt cadences and unadorned idiomnof William Carlos Williams, as if to saynthat authenticity in dealing with thenCommon Man is arrived at only bynavoiding the poetic forms he has chosennfor himself Our own Americannballadeers, caught between the rock ofnthe literary magazines, which are notnlikely to give space to anything asnreactionary-sounding as a ballad, andnthe hard place of no alternatives fornpublication in the popular press, havenforsaken the slopes of Parnassus for thenlounges of Nashville. Perhaps Causleynis fortunate to receive a hearing at all.nSecret Destinations: Selected Poemsn1977-1988 provides a generous samplenof recent work from a poet, now innhis 70’s and writing beautifully, whonclearly deserves our respect. At this latenstage in his career, Causley is not likelynto become American poetry’s currentnpet Brit (the job has been vacant sincenthe death of Larkin), but readers herenshould respond well to his best poemsnand forgive his infrequent lapses. He isna craftsman who employs a variety ofnformal strategies, from rhymed pentametersnto free verse, in an attempt tonmatch form with content; few Americannpoets demonstrate such versatility.nGenerally, his poems contain strongnnarrative elements and avoid the subjectivenpersonalism that is the bane ofntoo much contemporary poetry. It isnpossible that his idiom will slow thenAmerican reader (“Today / I see thennaked-footed children trawl / The damnfor yabbies. . . . “), but for the mostnpart the surfaces of his poems arensimple and unobstructed.nCausley has been called “England’snRobert Frost,” but trying to imagine annEnglish Frost is about as impossible asnsummoning up an American Larkin.nWhat he lacks, the element that ultimatelynraises Larkin to greatness, is anunifying vision: the terrors of existentialnaloneness that make Larkin’snpoems on bachelorhood (a subjectnlargely unexplored in American poetry)nso memorable. A poet who takesnhis religion seriously, Causley oftennexplores Christian subjects andnthemes, but, to cite another wellknownncountryman, his work in thisnSEPTEMBER 1990/39n