that at Judgment there will never be said against Martin Dooner that he was a hypocrite, that he failed to feed the hungry or take care of those in trouble. If youse thinks that a golf player is the kind of man the people in my ward wants, you can endorse him and be damned to you; for as sure as there's a God in Israel I'll lick the stuffin' out of you at the polls!" And grabbing his hat he was gone.

To say that Dooner had not made an impression on the Committee would be untrue. In spite of his faulty logic there were members who had a certain respect for him, and who even began to doubt whether after all he was so bad as he had been painted; but no one spoke in his behalf, and Mr. Murchison was unanimously endorsed by the committee. Dooner had so far followed a notable example in scripture that he had made to himself friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, and in this crisis they were made to "give up." Every corporation he had served, every man he had helped in trouble, and every woman he had befriended was laid under tribute of one kind or another. The corporations came to time fairly well because they were opposed to the new mayor, and though they expected Dooner to lose in this fight they felt sure he would come up again at a time when he would be needed. They also, with charming impartiality, helped Mallon in his fight for Murchison; but Dooner could make two dollars go farther than his opponent could five. There were hourly conferences in the back room of the saloon, in haunts the public knew nothing of, on the street corners, and at offices where were located men who could deliver goods. One advantage Dooner had, the election officers were his friends, and as they were not dependent on the mayor they were kept in line. In fact Dooner "stood them up" with the threat that he could and would send every one of them to jail if they did not "play fair" with him. This expression needs no explanation to those who are familiar with the workings of elections in the slums of the cities. The Australian ballot system has accomplished many things, but it has not yet purified elections to the extent intended. After all the votes were cast, including many that ought not to have been, the counting must take place, and there was Dooner's advantage.

A month previous Donner would have been the last man to take advantage of his former generosity. He was no altruist, but he had not been accustomed to the quid pro quo policy

of benefaction. Now with his back to the wall he had to take advantage of every straw which would help. It was not he who went about the ward proclaiming his many virtues he was too shrewd for that; but there were a number of men of some standing among their fellows who had felt his generosity, and who, not without some hope of future gain, but really, to tell the truth, in genuine gratitude, spent days and nights in talking to the men and women who had good cause to remember that Dooner had been their friend. Every basket of coal he had sent to the freezing, every square meal to the hungry, and every bad boy kept from jail were expected to pay dividends in the shape of votes. It cannot be said that Dooner was comfortable under this situation. He was not. In the inner depth of his conscientiousness he hated himself for allowing the results of the instincts of his better nature at times when he was untrammeled to be used as clubs for his benefit when he was in trouble. But like most men in difficulty, he could not refuse to avail himself of his resources. To lose was to give up all he counted dear.

If this were the only side of the story, Dooner might appear in a most unpalatable light. Unfortunately for him, he was "up against" a situation where, to his own. notion, he must fight the devil with fire. Mallon was not so able in his way as Dooner, but he was shrewd and energetic, and he started in with almost all in his favor that counts for anything in the eyes of practical politicians. He had policemen, firemen, street-cleaners, garbage-collectors, scrubwomen, clerks, pavers, and what not under his control, and every one was threatened with discharge if he did not vote for Murchison and make all his friends do the same. Every contractor interested in the ward was told to turn in under pain of their work being declined by the city inspectors and no further contracts being awarded. Even the poor school teachers were told that they would not be reappointed unless all their relatives to the last degree turned in for the reform candidate. There was some corporation money, but this was not so large as the large assessment levied on the officeholders, who groaned at this outrage. If all the lies and threats in this campaign. on both sides were consolidated, and all the liars and threat-makers sent with them, there would needs be another chamber in Dante's "Inferno." Bulldozing, pleading, appeals to cupidity, promises of more places

than there were in the whole city, offers of cash, and appeals to both the highest and lowest in human nature were used on both sides. Every Commandment was shattered in the contest.

Meanwhile, where was Murchison ? That estimable gentleman was no sooner in the thick of the fight than he wished he was out of it. He was made to do some handshaking among people who were not aware that such a thing as a bath-tub existed. He insisted on a rally, and made a speech one night to about 700 people, not one half of whom could understand ten words of English. He came out strong for civil-service reform, and was replete with allusions to that degeneracy in politics which brought about the downfall of Rome. It was a flat failure; and Mallon, who had opposed the meeting, was furious, and told the City Committee to send the candidate out to the residence wards and give money instead. Dooner dug up the fact from one of his newspaper friends that Murchison yearly visited the Earl of Rentrack, whose estates in Ireland had been the center of hostility to the "Plan of Campaign." He spread abroad the report that Murchison had once said he believed Dreyfus was guilty. He plastered the ward with pictures of Murchison clad in a golf suit, under which were the words:

CITIZENS, VOTE FOR MURCHISON, THE GOLFERS' CANDIDATE.

In fact, there was no trick known to politics on either side that was not played to the limit. One week before the election it looked as if Dooner could not win. Three days later it was a drawn battle, and Murchison was made to give up money at a rate that appalled him. On the day before election even Mallon felt that the case was worse than desperate. He made a last appeal to his candidate for a large sum of money to "procure watchers at the polls," etc. Murchison was sick of it all by this time, and he did not like the "touch"; but he hated worse to be defeated, and did not even exact a promise as to how the money was to be spent. Mallon was wise in his generation. In spite of all the efforts he had made, he felt that he had lost, and concluded it bad policy to waste the money on hand. He concluded to prepare for eventualities; for a good bank account is better than nothing.

As usually happens in a political contest

sides about cancels. If this were not so, we would long ago have gone to political destruction. After all the evils done by bribers and wire-pullers and schemers of every sort in an election, they ordinarily about counterbalance, and the saving grace is the untrammeled voter. Not that this latter class are saints or are after political purity at all times. Very often they want the very things that good men despise; but, as a matter of fact, it is these who control for good or evil. The majority gets what it wants.

It would be unfair to say that Dooner's friends were all vicious or without some of the higher ideals of life. Sometimes in the hovels and tenements there are as clear ideals of justice and honor and truth as are found in the highest walks in society. There are men earning a dollar a day who could, perhaps, give lessons to professors of theology or economics.

Probably many good people will be shocked at learning that this is a veracious narrative of a campaign dealing with actual persons, and that the result was decided not by money, nor by influence, nor by any other ulterior motive. The fact was that Dooner, with all his faults, with all his shortcomings, and, if you please, his iniquities, was the real representative of his people. In his way he was as much the true type and representative of his constituents as was ever Daniel Webster or Henry Clay. The fountain cannot rise higher than its source, and the source of Dooner's strength was that he was one of his people, a little wiser, much shrewder, and, while no one would claim for him the saintly halo, it was a fact that, without any professions or claim to godliness, he had fed the hungry, cared for the sick, and visited the prisoner. Not all the power he had acquired in politics alone could have elected him. Not all his shrewdness and the deviltry of which he was capable could have attained it. But, like most of us, he was neither wholly good nor wholly bad; his impulses were better than his professions, his acts were better than his profanity.

On the night of election there was red fire

in front of Dooner's saloon, while within there was liquid refreshment for all, without money and without price. Dooner was naturally gratified, but when the lights were out and he sat down to think it all over, his sole wish was that it had never happened; that is to say, that it had never been necessary

From the portrait by Miss Ben-Yusuf.

IF

F Theodore Roosevelt had died before September, 1901, his name in the tables of Vice-Presidents of the United States, a hundred years hence, would probably mean no more than the names of Daniel D. Tompkins, Richard M. Johnson, George M. Dallas, and other obscure Vice-Presidents. In dictionaries of American literature, two inches of brevier type would record that he had written ten or a dozen books, and give a list of the positions he had filled. An infinitesimally small number of Americans of the next century, historians, and advanced students of the period of American development from 1870 to 1899 would have a look at Roosevelt's" Winning of the West," "American

Ideals," "With the Rough Riders in Cuba," and in so much as the style of these writings reveals the man, they would know him as a frank-spoken, sturdy fellow, a hater of shams, and a friend of every one who gets things done and over with. No doubt American biography one hundred years from now will contain scores of similar charactersfine enough, of course, but almost unknown and of limited influence.

Now all this hypothesis is set down here to raise the question as to whether or not there may be in the plan of things that guides the world some conservation of moral energy. Providence does not make a rugged, virile, honest, cheerful, clear-minded man

HIS AMBITION: TO SET AN EXAMPLE.

At seeing this man rise, not upon the ordinary rounds of political promotion, but from a State legislature to federal offices, from a State officer to the Presidency, the questions which arise in the mind are, how was he trained? whence his strength? how has he won? To answer them, it is first necessary to find the key-note of Roosevelt's character. That is his ambition. And his ambition-the one great, ever-active purpose that, lying nearest to his heart, is the mainspring of his life-is to set an example before Americans, and especially before his young countrymen, showing what a man of the highest ideals, derived from good birth and liberal advantages, can accomplish in all honesty, without soiling his hands, for the betterment of our political life and the advancement of our political ideals. It is so unselfish and noble a motive in politics, that it has been neglected in the popular estimate of Roosevelt, and therefore many people have regarded him as a pugnacious, impetuous, honest, but eccentric young man, while others have looked upon him as a harumscarum, "bronco-busting" lover of notoriety, a poser who liked a fight for its own sake, and had no regard for the amenities of political relationship. But not many of his partisans and opponents have seen that they had a rare species of man on their hands, one whose political training has not been along lines of diplomacy and combination and adroitness, nor along economic lines, save in his range of careful reading; but whose training has been rather moral than political. Yet nowadays he is mistaken for a politician, which essentially he is not. The American people generally classify their Congressmen and Governors and Presidents as politicians, and let it go at that. The American idea is that most politicians of all parties are bad, the worst ones generally being in the other party, and the good ones all dead or out of office. Americans believe that to get an office and enjoy it forever is the chief end of a politician's existence. Roosevelt has held offices more than half his life since his majority, and offices that have brought more labor and more enemies than

HOW HE GOT HIS OFFICES.

And he did not get these offices because he was a good "mixer," to use the parlance of politics, or because he was a manipulator of men, or yet because he had "pull" or influence. He went from Harvard to the legislature with a distinct purpose to serve. He was reëlected because of his capacity to accomplish things. The world may love a lover, but it keeps its richest rewards for the man who, at the end of the day, has deeds done and no excuses to make. He was Civil-Service Commissioner because, knowing that the principles of civil-service reform are vital, he had the grit to determine that conditions should be shaped to that mold; he was made Police Commissioner of the city of New York at thirty-six, because Mayor Strong was looking for a brave, sensible man to take an unpopular task and not play politics in the office. The Assistant Secretaryship of the Navy, which he took in 1897, required much hard work with no glory. His training as a soldier in Cuba increased what his life in the West had already given him-his sympathy with men, the love of direct, individual action, and the comforting but hardly needed knowledge of his own personal bravery. Yet he sometimes tells his friends that until he was in his first battle he did not know whether he was going to bolt or not.

It was as Governor of New York that Roosevelt, growing most rapidly, showed to the full his efficient integrity of purpose. There he had tests of his moral strength and of his capacity to get actual net results. He won the office in the whirlwind of enthusiasm that followed the Cuban War. Then Senator Platt lay in wait for him on the Jericho road. The "rough and tumble" that followed the meeting was good for the moral muscle, but rather severe on hide and hair of the contestants. As the Republican candidate for Governor of New York, he owed no political gratitude to Senator Platt, yet in an interview with the reporters, Roosevelt said, in so many words, that in making his appointments he 'would consult Senator Platt." The

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