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S the Congressional inquiry into the Ordnance Bureau and the Quartermaster's Department proceeds, the grave deficiencies which exist in the supply and equipment for our troops grow more and more apparent.

It is admitted by all interests, both in and out of the War Department, that our soldiers abroad are depending at present entirely upon our allies for their artillery and machine guns. The authorities in our War Department state that our allies can afford to lend us this vital aid without detriment to themselves. Many voices have been raised, however, in a protest against such a statement. To the impartial observer it seems distinctly unlikely that France and England-two nations which have been straining every resource during the last three years to ward off the attacks of an aggressive and desperate foe-should have supplies to spare.

In any case, it grows more and more apparent that the admitted shortage of supplies for our own troops is due, in part at least, to a failure by the War Department to avail itself of all the resources at the command of the American Nation.

This general criticism is particularly applicable in the case of the supply of machine guns. The machine-gun situation is doubly complicated, for it involves a controversy which has been raging in army circles for a long period antedating the present war. Any one who has followed at all closely the action of the War Department in recent years knows that the Bureau of Ordnance has manifested on more than one occasion a hostility towards the Lewis machine gun which has aroused considerable debate. Colonel Lewis, U. S. A., retired, the inventor of the Lewis machine gun, believes that the failure to recognize the value of his weapon has been due to the personal antagonism of General Crozier, Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance. General Crozier, on the other hand, has indicated on more than one occasion that he was not satisfied with the performance of the Lewis gun in actual test. Colonel Lewis's arguments are strengthened by the fact that his gun has been eagerly seized upon by the ordnance officials of our allies, and that thousands upon thousands of them are now in constant use on and over the western front.

Whatever the cause of General Crozier's objections, they were sufficient in weight greatly to retard the acceptance of Lewis machine guns by the War Department even after the outbreak of hostilities had made manifest to every eye the immediate need of developing to the limit the machine gun capacity of American factories. In his testimony before Congress Colonel Lewis told of his repeated efforts to give his gun to his Government without compensation to himself. He said that he had returned to the American Government the thousands of dollars in royalties he had received for Lewis guns ordered for the English Government but later turned over to our own. He said that the War Department had at first refused to accept his check, and later, after reversing its decision, had failed even to acknowledge his voluntary gift. Colonel Lewis's statements to this effect, backed up by letters produced at the Congressional investigation, whatever bearing they may have on his criticism of General Crozier, certainly give evidence of a lack of courtesy from officials toward the inventor.

General Crozier claims that the War Department has found in the Browning machine gun a better weapon than the Lewis, but all the testimony before the Congressional Committee showed that the Browning gun, so far as any quantity production is concerned, is largely a thing of the future. At the time of its adoption by the War Department but two Browning guns were in existence. It would seem to the lay observer that it would have been better to accept as the standard equipment of our troops a weapon which had already decisively proved its merit and its right to survive on a thousand hardfought fields. The Browning gun may be a hundred times more efficient than the Lewis, but it can be said, without fear of contradiction by partisans of either gun, that no blueprint ever killed a German.

The Congressional inquiry into the Quartermaster's Depart ment has brought to light certain deficiencies of method which have greatly retarded the equipment for our troops. So far as

the Congressional investigation has proceeded, there has been little indication that personal jealousy has been permitted to interfere in any way with the proper provision of food, clothing, and other such supplies for our military forces. It is plainly evident, however, that because of our general unpreparedness in the past, and the inelastic organization of our War Department, the Government has been unable to provide uniforms, overcoats, and certain other supplies for the men in training. Apparently the Quartermaster's Department has made its best showing in the matter of the food provided for the men, for there has been a notable lack of criticism on the grounds of insufficient food.

One of the reasons why there has been delay in providing clothing for our troops is to be found in the complicated system used by the War Department in checking orders passing between various offices within the War Department.

General Sharpe, under questioning by Senator Wadsworth, admitted that in one important case it took four days for a telegram to come from the Adjutant-General's office to the Quartermaster-General. Senator McKellar graphically described the course of the particular telegram to which General Sharpe referred. Said Senator McKellar:

As I understand the course of that telegram, it comes from the officer in the field to the Adjutant-General. Then it comes to the Quartermaster-General. Then from the QuartermasterGeneral back to the Adjutant-General; then from the Adjutant-General to the Assistant Chief of Staff, and from the Assistant Chief of Staff back to the Adjutant-General and the Quartermaster General combined. Then from the Adjutant-General back to the officer, and the Quartermaster-General then acts upon it. General Sharpe said that he then acted upon such a requisition if his approval had been confirmed, but it was made manifest that confirmation of an order implied progress through the entire course of procedure described by Senator McKellar. General Sharpe admitted that on one occasion General Wood had on his own authority bought twenty thousand pairs of overalls for his men at Camp Funston in order that they might be clothed until the regulation uniforms arrived. He did this without authority, but the Quartermaster-General approved of it, because of the necessity of the situation. General Wood's prompt action was apparently typical of the way in which the Quartermaster's Department has not been managed.

No American can be blind to the size of the problem which has confronted the War Department since the outbreak of the war. And many Americans, with the size of the problem confronting the War Department in mind, have been loth to criticise the inefficiency which has in some respects been manifested. As one citizen overheard in a restaurant a few days ago re marked, “Think what confusion would result if the average business concern were asked to expand a thousandfold within a few months."

The comparison sounds plausible, but it is not just. An ordinary business is run on a basis of paying for improvements and developments out of its profits. A War Department is organized with the understanding that whenever an emergency exists the funds at its disposal will be limited only by the resources of the Nation.

The success of an ordinary business is determined by its daily balance-sheet. The success of a War Department can be determined only by its ability to face an emergency and to meet whatever demands the country makes upon it in time of war. A war department organized only for peace-time use is like an insurance company organized on a basis of never having to pay out money for the losses of its policy-holders. What would the average citizen say of an insurance company which accepted his premiums year after year, but failed to pay its just debt. when his house or his factory burned to the ground?

In the very nature of things a war department should be organized with the greatest possible degree of elasticity. If it proves itself inelastic and convention-bound in time of war, it can be justly criticised, even though a commercial concern confronted by problems of the same character and magnitude might. be pardoned for a demonstration of similar deficiencies.



OW, like a child that has paid a nickel for a toy, they are crying because the salesman won't let them have the toy and the nickel also."

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This is the way that Hermann Hagedorn, an American of German parentage, characterizes those German-Americans who want to be loyal to America but at the same time want to cherish a loyalty to their German inheritance.

An American who knows no divided allegiance can perhaps best understand what this struggle between two such loyalties means by learning how that struggle has affected the lives of individuals. Three such individuals in what here follows tell their stories of that struggle as it has affected them.

After reading these stories the plain American, who has never been troubled with a hyphen, will perhaps be more ready to sympathize with some of his fellow-Americans who have been through some phase of this struggle. As Mr. Hagedorn, in the article written for the Vigilantes from which we have quoted above, says concerning the German-American :

Like all sentimentalists, he wants to have his cake and eat it too; he forswears his allegiance to Germany because he wants to enjoy American equality of opportunity, and at the same time he persuades himself that he is still ein guter, braver Deutscher. America is his wife, but he keeps Germany as his soul-mate, and is puzzled and offended when his wife boxes his ears and hales him into court.

... America should have been more observant. She should have seen that the German-Americans needed some friendly attention. America did not see, but Germany did.


The German-American has a keen sense of duty. It is inbred in him. That sense of duty will make him wish faithfully to obey the laws of the United States, of which he is a citizen. But the German-American has likewise an abnormally developed bump of sentimentality. That fatal quality will make him turn.

again and again wistfully to the dream-Germany which has long perished, if it ever existed. . . . In the hearts of countless German-Americans there is unquestionably a conflict raging between that sense of duty and that sentimental turning to the past.

It is not surprising that this conflict between a loyalty based on a sense of duty and a loyalty based on sentimentality should bring distress and in some cases hardship. And it is not surprising that it affects different individuals in different ways.

The three stories that follow tell how this conflict has affected three different types.

In the case of Mr. Froehlke, that conflict has been carried on within his own mind. Though Mr. Froehlke was born in America, he has gone through the struggle between those two loyalties as neither of the other two has. He has experienced conversion to the American spirit, and he suggests that that process of conversion is slow in coming to an end.

In the case of Dr. Steiner, the storm of the conflict has surged against him from the lives of others. Born of Jewish parentage in Austria, Dr. Steiner knew what it was to find the American spirit before he ever came to this land; and he has known what it has been to go through such a conflict as some of his fellowAmericans are going through, because he has himself gone through a similar process in becoming a minister of the Christian gospel. He has tried to be an interpreter of the American spirit to others who, like himself, have been alien immigrants. The special occasion which calls forth the story he tells is referred to in a note which prefaces what he has to say.

In the case of the unnamed woman of Wisconsin, that struggle has had its outcome in a whole-hearted acceptance of the American spirit which amounts to a profound, sturdy, aggressive faith. THE EDITORS.




S soon as the European war broke out I entirely forgot that America was the land of my birth and became a rabid pro-German, denouncing everything that smacked of anything Allied, particularly British, in the sharpest terms. In the heat of passion I unreservedly threw my lot with the German nation, and actually conceived of the idea, with its resultant emotion, that if Germany were to go down into defeat it would be my share in life ever afterward to greet my fellow American citizens shamefacedly and apologetically. Viewed in the light of the present time, my former self was a German in disguise, and that man who with biting sarcasm remarked, after I had sat in judgment on the Entente with particular harshness, "You Germans will soon be roaming about without a country," was almost right, for when Congress declared a state of war existing between Germany and our country I virtually found myself on neutral ground and had no country, Germania and America, on either side of me, both appealing for respective demonstrations of loyalty.

America won the day, but the transition was not quite so precipitate as a certain communication which I sent to one of our local newspapers immediately after Bernstorff had been handed his passports would indicate; part of this here follows: "The severance of diplomatic relations caused my heart to bleed, and I am sure it lacerated the souls of thousands of other men of German descent. Thank God, it was only for the moment! With a supreme and holy effort we have thrown off our prejudices in regard to the European war and are now concerning ourselves only with the interest of America. We shall stand by our country. Surely our fellow-citizens will understand how it could come to pass that we were downcast at the news of the severance of diplomatic relations with Germany, the land of our forefathers, whose memory we cherish. It was but natural.


Our patriotism has been put to the test, and be it known that it has stood the test. Our hearts are beating for America, our hopes are for America, our lives, our services, are at the disposal of America."

This letter, written bona fide by a sanguine-choleric hand, established beyond a doubt my loyalty among fellow-Americans. In reality, however, as I see it now, my communication was a shield which protected me against accusations of disloyalty while I got my bearings and steered toward the safe harbor of Americanism.

That there was need of such a course soon became apparent to me. My assumption that I was an American after our country had taken up arms against the Imperial Government of Germany received a severe jolt when, to my horror, I found that I could read war news unfavorable to the Allies with equanimity and a certain degree of complacency; in my treacherous heart there was concealed a jubilant triumph because of German victories which slavish fear of prosecution suppressed. What a pass I, a native American, had come to! How could it be possible?

As I ponder over this question it appears to me that I, and no doubt others, were not altogether to blame for the temperamental condition just confessed. Our fellow-Americans made it difficult even for a native American who happened to have a reading and speaking knowledge of the language of his forefathers-in our case it is the German language-to be and feel himself a real American. Of course I must admit that, as my father was the pastor of a large German-speaking congre gation, my environments were principally German; we spoke German at home, carried on conversations in the German language with most of our friends, read German literature extensively, and attended such schools and colleges as laid stress

on the German part of the curriculum. Influence of this nature combined with natural tendencies was bound to create in us a certain degree of regard for the land of our forefathers. This attachment to the old country would not only have remained harmless, but, in my opinion, would have continued to be a beneficial factor in our American life, had not our American brethren continually harped on and accentuated our being of German extraction, and thus, in the course of time, perpetuated in our mind the idea that we were an incongruity in the American make-up.

As far back as my memory reaches I remember being called a German, seldom an American. When I attended our parochial school, my "Yankee" friends, of course, said I was going to the German school, and they dubbed me a "Dutchman." Later on, when I was graduated from college and had completed my course in a theological seminary, I never failed to be introduced as the German pastor, though I preached more English than German. Living in a settlement where people spoke a great deal of German, it was no uncommon thing for me to hear politicians paying a glowing tribute to the honesty, integrity, and initiative of the German people, as though these commend able qualities were our private property. In papers, books, and magazines of all sorts the praises of Germany, her Government, her people, her scenery, "her everything," were sung. Tourists who came back likewise praised Germany, and took special pains to draw comparisons and place America not always in a very favorable light. How, then, in the name of common sense, was I to become Americanized when my fellow-citizens did all in their power to Germanize me, an American by birth?

So it happened that when my country took up arms against the Kaiser and his kin I was out of sympathy with her undertaking. I did not feel myself a real American.

When one considers what has happened since war was declared, this treatment of the German-Americans by their fellowcitizens appears all but criminal. And they felt it; the truth of this is borne out by the fact that America is betraying a bad conscience by the distrust which she shows toward everything German, regardless of whether American ideas have been assimilated or not. When a state of war was declared between America and the Imperial Government of Germany, apprehensions were entertained on all sides as to the stand German-Americans would take toward a situation pregnant with so many possibilities of a decisive nature. Why this distrust? Surely the German-Americans did not merit this disgrace. The history of our country vouched for their loyalty, and history, it is said, repeats itself. Undoubtedly this uneasiness was partly due to the fact that this war would automatically align so many of our fellowcitizens against their kinsmen, a situation in which sentimentality and natural affection might be easily misguided and cipitate disaster; but for the most part this distrust toward the German-American was engendered by his own bad conscience. He was not without blame.

Through bitter experience our fellow-Americans have discovered their mistake, and would retrieve that which they heretofore have neglected. Toward this end our Administration has taken measures for an official campaign of enlightenment as to our war aims. Nothing could be more expedient and opportune. Coming at a time when a great many German-Americans were perplexedly asking themselves, "Warum dieser Krieg?" this propaganda for true, unadulterated Americanism was, and is still, bound to bring good results, inasmuch as the psychological moment for such a movement has been chosen and the whole dealt with in the spirit of mutual helpfulness and fairness. Much of the war-time oratory which was indulged in by amateurs, who acted in no official capacity, and therefore in very many cases had no inside information, was nauseating to me in its spread-eagle style, and, if anything, only served to foster my dislike for war against Germany. Another adverse feature of these bellicose speeches was that they were very often delivered by those men who before the war made it a practice to cater to "German" people. Can you imagine the impression it made on me when the very same men who before the war assiduously labored to Germanize me dragged the general apathy of the German-American into the hell-hole of fiery invectives, and would have every German-speaking American shot as a traitor at sunrise? They put me in mind of a parent who in a fit of anger mercilessly whipped his spoiled child, whose greatest crime was that it had followed in its father's footsteps. In their public utterances a spirit of more or less sanctimonious hypocrisy evinced itself. To be sure, it inspired me with confidence and refreshed me when our Administration finally hit upon the plan of taking me into its confidence, of meeting me half-way, as it were, and of making me feel that I was an integral part in the American machinery.

Former prejudices gradually pushed aside, I began to apply myself with painstaking study to the solution of the perplexing problems and the mental phenomena with which only GermanAmericans in this war crisis were confronted. The Government co-operating with me in the spirit of fair play, my efforts have been crowned with success. I am beginning to feel myself a real American.

To illustrate the point permit me to relate an experience of mine, trivial in itself, but full of meaning. Walking along the street the other day I met with a crowd of small boys and heard one of them say, 66 There goes the German pastor." Before the war and some time after I did not mind being accosted and spoken of in that manner; but this time the "German" part of it hurt, not because I am ashamed of my German parentageI am proud of it--but because it awakened in me a sensation as if I were ostracized from the categorical group that saith, "We are Americans!”

In conclusion I ask the question, Am I a traitor? I may have been one in embryo, but it seems to me I was nipped in the bud.

Savannah, Illinois.



It has been asserted that some of Dr. Steiner's utterances have been open to severe criticism. As he is known to large numbers of Americans, and especially to our readers, as a writer and a lover of humanity, it is eminently suitable that he should explain through The Outlook just what his position is. Those of our readers who remember his three articles on the Herr Director and the American spirit will associate his name with a particularly high and moving interpretation of America. The Outlook's acquaintance with Dr. Steiner is personal and direct. We hope that this communication from him, which has been published also elsewhere, will lead to a more discriminating valuation of the Americanism that has been fostered by Americans of alien birth.-THE EDITORS.


Y pen has been practically idle for three years. In common with most Americans, I have felt much and suffered in an uncommon degree, and when one suffers clear thinking is difficult. One can speak without thinking, but one cannot write; at least I could not. The suffering has, however, become so intense that I must give utterance to my feeling, and I am addressing Outlook readers because they have been my audience for many years, always patient and generous.

When the war broke out, I was not as unprepared for it as most Americans. I knew it was coming, and also knew why it was to come. I did not know how vast the conflagration would

be, and did not dream that we should suffer by it to the degree that we have.

From the very first, however, I shared in the suffering which has now become so common. I knew Serbia and loved its people. I had great hopes that after the Balkan War it would speedily recover and ultimately find its place among the forward-moving nations of Europe. The invasion of Serbia by Austria, its final devastation by Austrian and German troops, the ravages of disease which followed, I felt in their full force, and knew it to be the doom of the people whom I loved.

The conquest of Montenegro was a still greater agony for

me, for I knew not only its brave people, but have enjoyed the hospitality of its ruler. One of my first contributions to The Outlook described my visit to him. To see that rock-hewn throne of freedom desecrated, for the first time in six hundred years, was a tremendous disappointment.

The horrors perpetrated in Belgium, the burning and sacking of its cities which I knew and admired. the laying low of its whole national life, and the massacres of the Armenians were horrors upon horrors.

Reluctantly I yielded myself to the thought of my country's entrance into the war, knowing the price we must pay for our idealism.

I thought, however, that I could find an effective way in which I could aid, besides the giving of money for every appeal, subscribing for Liberty bonds, and offering myself to the Y. M. C. Å. for the work it is doing in the war camps.

I tried to act as a mediator between the alien-born and the native citizen. I began to interpret to the Americans the problems of these foreigners who suddenly were called upon to fight for their adopted country, and to fight against their own people. I also tried to interpret to the foreign-born the position of America, the high ideals which moved it, and the inability of the Nation to keen out of the conflict under the conditions.

In my attempt to mediate I did not straddle; but I pleaded constantly for that which was upon my heart.

The prosecution of the war, however, has brought about a state of mind which has made the continuance of this task all but impossible--at least in Iowa, for it is here that my patriotism has received its first challenge. I could not remain silent when ill-advised or bewildered men were dragged out of their beds, brought before a self-appointed court, and, after being whipped, compelled to kiss the flag. It was a desecration of the flag itself and a betrayal of the American spirit. I have myself been attacked and my patriotism questioned because I tried to stem the wave of hate which is sweeping across my own State. Yet I am not now pleading for myself, though my suffering is keen-all the keener because, although alien-born, I am with every fiber of my being an American. I am pleading for the foreign-born citizen. Not for the German spy; let him suffer


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the fate of spies. Not for the embittered, disloyal German who will not see the agony his country has brought upon the world, nor for that portion of the German press which has been misleading. Its business was to guide and direct, not to perplex. I am pleading for those among us who are bewildered and sad. We ought not, we must not, meet them with a club and argue with a hangman's rope. I am not pleading for them alone; I am pleading for my America, which will need every ounce of loyalty, not only now but when the war is over.

Is it not possible to adopt a new strategy? Must the fate of these people be left in the hands of county and State chairmen of defense who have neither outlook nor sympathy, and who were chosen for their belligerency as much as for their pa triotism? We shall need to place new Liberty bonds; we shall need new and greater sacrifices. Shall we secure them by coercion of the worst kind?

I know what is going on in the hearts of the men who have been cruelly treated and maligned. If I were not so thoroughly an American, if I did not sense the American spirit at its best, the treatment I have received would make an Anarchist of me. I am pleading for a new strategy, for we are unmaking good Americans and not making them. Let the President appoint a board-one board more or less will not matter. Let it deal with the problem of the foreign-born. The members of this board need not be foreign-born citizens, but Americans who know them and their problems.

Frankly, I am fearing for the future of our country after the war, not while it lasts. I fear that the breach will grow the greater as the war proceeds and as it exacts from us greater sacrifices. I fear that we who were alien-born, and were born again into Americans, will be made into aliens again. Where I am writing we are being controlled by a Prussian cast of mind; we are fast becoming that which we are fighting, and the alienborn are finding themselves in the midst of the very conditions from which they fled. We need a new strategy, else we shall lose more than we shall gain. I know that a new strategy will not be enough. It must be reinforced by a new spirit, or rather the old American spirit of fair play; and for that, too, I plead, and, I trust, not in vain.


HE following letter was printed in the New York "Trilune" of December 21:

"To the Editor of the Tribune:

Sir--An honest German woman of Neillsville, Wisconsin,

If the Germans here don't like America, let them go back to Germany, where the poor people live like swine. It took me three years to save enough money to get to this country, and I had to borrow a little then to get a ticket for the trip. The people there wear wooden shoes, held on by a strap across the top, and I wor a pair when I came here; but I saved enough out of my first week's wages to buy a pair of leather ones. That was more than I could save in a month in Germany. They live like bogs over there, whole families in two small rooms, where they dress and undress before each other. It seemed like heaven when I got to America and had a room all to myself.

"The American people have treated me fine, and never once made me feel like a lickspittle, as the rich people do in Germany. The German people here must not take the American courtesy and forbearance for fear or cowardice-no, sir, or they will get an awful bump soon. I know the American reserve and strength better than most people of my nationality. I think they have given us every chance in the world to get along and prosper, and it is a mean and dirty thing now to go to bragging and encouraging our country's enemy, Germany, a country that is so conceited that it thinks it can run the world. Germany is the worst place in the world for a person to live, and I would as soon be in hell this minute as to go back where I came from in Germany.'

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Wisconsin has its Teutonic troubles, but this German woman is not one of them. L. B. RING.”

"Neillsville, Wisconsin, December 4, 1917."



When the news of the defeat of Mayor Curley, of Boston, by Mr. Peters was announced-too late for adequate treatment last weekwe asked Professor W. B. Munro, who occupies the chair of Municipal Government in Harvard University, to tell our readers what the election signified, and this is his answer.-THE EDITORS.

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Let it not be inferred from this, however, that the voters of Boston have been seized by a spasm of reform. The defeat of Mayor Curley was no doubt due in some degree to a general dissatisfaction with many features of his administration, but in larger measure it was the result of a wide-open split in the ranks of those who supported him four years ago. Two months before the election it looked to the impartial observer as if Mr. Curley had managed to make himself impregnable. A man of far more

than ordinary mental capacity, he is one of the most courageous and resourceful politicians in the entire country. His energy is boundless. In the art of putting ginger into a campaign he has nothing to learn from any one. For four years, moreover, he has devoted a large part of his undeniable talents to the work of intrenching himself in office. No wonder he hoped to be his own


Yet the whole structure, so carefully planned and builded, blew up in short order, and the reason is not far to seek. Mr. Curley's obvious solicitude for his own welfare recoiled upon himself. A Mayor who aims to be also a boss must, of necessity, pursue to some extent the methods of an autocrat, and the everpresent tendency of autocracy is to precipitate revolt. That is just what happened in Boston. Leaders from his own political party rose in their righteous wrath against Mayor Curley's attempt to dominate in his own personal interest, not only the administration of the city, but the Democratic organization of

Boston as well.

A few weeks before the election Congressman James A. Gallivan jumped into the arena as an anti-Curley candidate and made it plain that he was in to stay. Friends of the Mayor then made frantic proffers of the olive branch, but it was too late. Mr. Gallivan's personal magnetism, his wide acquaintance, his reputation for rugged integrity, and his picturesque methods of campaigning soon gained for his candidacy a remarkable momentum, and in the end he managed to poll nearly twenty thousand votes, a large part of which came unquestionably from the Curley ranks. When all is said and done, it is to Congressman Gallivan and to his silver-tongued sponsor, ex-Mayor Fitzgerald, that Boston chiefly owes her deliverance from the morals and methods of Tammany.

Here, at any rate, was an opportunity for the friends of honest and efficient government to unite upon some candidate of outstanding merit, preferably one who had not been in any way associated with the old City Hall crowd. Reformers too often let such an opportunity slip by. The logic of the situation pointed clearly to the wisdom of uniting upon the Hon. Andrew J. Peters, who had already announced himself as an aspirant for the office.

Although a Democrat, Mr. Peters had been four times chosen to represent in Congress one of the Republican districts of Boston; he had also served with conspicuous credit as an Assistant Secretary of the Treasury at Washington. His candidacy was therefore indorsed whole-heartedly by the Good Government Association, an organization which reflects with more or less accuracy the non-partisan or "fusion" sentiment of Boston.

With party lines thus obliterated, the campaign started with a rush. As the days went on the most pronounced racial and personal bitterness was created in some quarters, with the partisans of Mayor Curley taking the chief initiative in this direction. Being no neophyte in politics, Mr. Peters kept his balance and declined to be lured into this torrent of vituperation, of appeals to religious prejudice and racial animosity, all of which unhappily have been far too often the accompaniment of a Boston municipal contest, and which marked this particular campaign with unprecedented virulence. So, while the CurleyGallivan forces blazed away at each other, Mr. Peters and his friends clung steadfastly to the plan of making a straightforward appeal to the whole electorate, offering a constructive programme of municipal improvement and promising an administration which would be non-partisan in every sense of the word. This policy was not spectacular, but it proved effective, the more so because the voters of Boston have had their surfeit of personalities in the campaigns of the past dozen years.

The Republicans of the city, moreover, gave sign of coming solidly to the Peters standard. Having no representative of their own party in the field, the promise of a non-partisan administration, made by Mr. Peters with evident sincerity, naturally appealed to them. Republicans form a decided minority among the voters of Boston, but they are an influential element, and when the Democrats are badly divided they hold the balance of power. They are not under the domination of any one political leader, and their votes cannot be delivered in bulk to any one, as has been proved time and again. Mr. Peters obtained nearly the entire Republican strength, but not because

of any trade with the leaders of that party. It was merely because he seemed to be the candidate most likely, and indeed the only candidate likely, to give the Republicans a fair deal. When the trend of things became apparent, the Curley strategists made efforts to drag some camouflage Republican into the ring in order that a portion at least of this vote might be deflected from Mr. Peters, but the plan was quickly ridiculed into an ignominious collapse. Of the 38,000 votes received by Mr. Peters the Republicans contributed at least from 20,000 to 30,000.

Two other factors contributed to the large plurality obtained by Mr. Peters. One of these was the appearance of a fourth candidate, another Democratic Congressman, the Hon. Peter F. Tague. At the final count Mr. Tague made a poor showing; his candidacy did not directly influence the issue of the election, but his trenchant criticism of Mayor Curley's official acts added considerably to the sum of that gentleman's troubles at a time when he had troubles enough elsewhere. The small vote polled by Congressman Tague is in no sense a reflection upon his personal popularity among the citizens of Boston. It shows merely that he had no chance of winning, and that in a hard-fought struggle men do not like to waste their ballots on a sure loser. The other factor which clinched the Peters triumph (although the outcome proved that he would have won without this timely assistance) was a declaration in his favor by Martin M. Lomasney, the sturdy and picturesque chieftain who holds in the hollow of his hand one of the most solidly Democratic wards of the city. This habitat of his, Ward Five, is one of the few Boston wards which has a leader strong enough to swing its votes en masse from one side to the other at his own command. Less than thirty-six hours before the election Mr. Lomasney, who is commonly known in the vernacular of Boston politics as "The Mahatma," hurled his high-explosive shell into the Curley camp. Although an assault from this quarter was not unexpected, it was timed, from the Peters standpoint, at just the right psychological moment. The air was surcharged with excitement and uncertainty; this thunderclap helped to clear it. Here, at any rate, was a plain intimation to the seekers after the loaves and fishes that lean years were ahead of those who pinned their faith upon Mayor Curley's prospects of re-election. It was a broad hint that the pay-roll patriots should scurry for cover. Bosses are human, some of them very much so. They like to be on the winning side. Yet the spectacle of Ward Five storming the polls of Boston in alliance with the cohorts of the Good Government Association is not the least amusing sight that New England has seen for many a day.

Out of approximately 88,000 votes cast Mr. Peters received slightly less than 38,000; Mr. Curley somewhat more than 28,000, and Mr. Gallivan nearly 20,000. The remainder went to Mr. Tague and to a Socialist nominee who drew but a few hundred. What would have happened had the two leading candidates been left to fight it out by themselves there is no way of determining, but it is not probable that in such event Mr. Peters could have won. His easy victory, therefore, has no real significance in demonstrating that a majority of Boston's voters have had a searching of hearts and now want the reformer's brand of city government. The chief lesson to be learned from this election is, not how a reform mayor can be elected, but how an unreformed one may assure his own defeat. When a mayor uses his appointing power, his patronage, his official influence, and a large part of his energies for the obvious purpose of promoting his own political and personal interests, and particularly when he accompanies this with sundry manifestations of worldly prosperity, he takes the risk of promoting disappointment, then envy, then vindictiveness, and finally an open revolt among his erstwhile friends.

Mayor Curley overdid the thing. Not only was his administration of a quality far below what a man of his brains and energy could have made it, but it was so thoroughly factional, and so conspicuously disdainful of all other factions than his own, that undercurrents of resentment were assured. Hence in no quarter did his humiliation give greater satisfaction than in circles where four years ago he had his stanchest friends.

With Mayor Peters at the helm Boston may look forward to bigger and better things. The commercial and industrial interests of the community, the comfort and convenience of its citi

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