he was a sudden and gracious object in the public vision. Indeed, there can be no sinister reflection in saying that a man is transparent, for that is what he ought to be. The dear people are notoriously shortsighted and sometimes need a monocle. But read through Mr. Roosevelt, who in his absorbing personality had assimilated candidate, platform, and the party itself, the Constitution of the United States was becoming blurred and out of focus. In his New Nationalism there seemed to be the implication of a New Nation, whereas the people are not yet tired of the Old Nation, that cost the blood and treasure of our fathers to create and the blood and treasure of our brothers to redeem. And so, as Shakespeare says:

"In this, the antique and well-noted face
Of plain old form is much disfigured;
And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,

It makes the course of thought to fetch about;
Startles and frights consideration;

Makes sound opinion sick and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashioned robe."

Furthermore, I have thought that even righteousness may become too militant. Truculence has scared men into the church, but it has never made a Christian. To preach morals with no appeal to the moral sense is to rob morality of its holiest sanction. Do you recall how Abraham Lincoln contrived to insinuate into all he said or wrote the fact that in our clash of interests and war of passions we were helpless, hopeless, foolish children, all of us, save as God gave us to know the right and the courage to pursue it? You

cannot imagine property more ill-gotten or wealth more tainted than the appropriated product of a slave; yet you may search in vain all that Lincoln ever said for an appeal to the passions of the slave. Every year we absorb into our citizenship a million penniless immigrants. Is it fair to them, is it fair to our institutions to beget or permit the idea that except for the sins of our very rich they too would be rich? I know that Mr. Roosevelt means nothing of the kind, nor does a careful analysis of what he says justify the accusation. But his manner and violence do arouse the passions and foster the notion that wealth-unless, like his own, inherited-is in and of itself a crime. In sober truth, it may be a misfortune—that is an individual problem. Jesus admonished the very rich man to sell what he had and give to the poor-not for the sake of the poor, but for the sake of the rich man himself, and his own peculiar happiness. "Be not thou afraid when one is made rich," says the Bible; "he hath swallowed down riches, and he shall vomit them up again; God shall cast them out of his belly; his remembrance shall perish from the earth and he shall have no name in the street." This sounds as if the land of Uz must have had a Wall Street of its own. "Nevertheless," says the same good book, "nevertheless, the Lord raised up judges "-judges, mind you, not politicians-" which delivered them out of the hand of those that spoil them."

And speaking of these same judges, here again it is not the fact that Mr. Roosevelt criticises them that hurts. It is his manner of doing it.

Now, I have not been talking politics. I have been

criticising a critic. Mr. Roosevelt is not a lawyer, but he should have been. Farmer Corntassel made his boy a lawyer because, as he said, "the boy has such an uncontrollable fancy fur tendin' to other people's business I thought he might as well get paid for it.” Think how much richer Mr. Roosevelt might have been!

But the agony of election is over, and for so much we can all be thankful. I say this in anticipation of the day that is fast upon us when all the governors of all the states will formulate reasons for our thanksgiving; but here and now it is well to begin it. In my scrap-book I find an old thanksgiving proclamation, such a model of its kind that I have had it copied to read to you:

"With grateful recognition of our unity as a people, of our enjoyment of peace and tranquillity, of the wealth of our material and moral resources; of increasing opportunities for industry, of educational advantages and social improvement, and of our peaceful progress toward the realization of the ideals of free society;

"And with profound appreciation of the obligations of liberty and of our dependence for the maintenance of our institutions upon a proper sense of the responsibilities of citizenship and upon the cultivation of those qualities of character which will enable us to discharge them;

"And with a common desire to uplift our hearts in praise for the blessings we enjoy;

"Let each of us give thanks to Almighty God for our privileges, and with wholesome resolution and with reverent spirit in His name let us devote our lives to the attainment of the best of which we are capable in

all good works, delighting in our fellowship and in the joyous service of brotherhood."

These words, gentlemen, were written by our honored guest when Governor of New York; and if I were permitted to add to them, it would be simply to thank God for the man who wrote them!

LOTOS CLUB DINNER TO MAYOR
MITCHEL *

MR. CHAIRMAN and fellow-Republicans!-I mean, of course, fellow-Democrats-that is to say, fellowStandpatters-Progressives—you fellows out there! who, like myself, in these times of amphibious, heterogeneous, paradoxical, salmagundi politics are trying to stand pat on one leg and progress with the other—a sort of "fusion" of the tango and minuet;—what shall we call ourselves to-night?-one comprehensive word that defines and reconciles us? What possible word is there but-Fellow-Mitchelites!

And when I say "fellow-Mitchelites," what does it mean? Why, it means just that. It means that you and I as fellow-citizens of this imperial city have recently joined a new political party called Mitchel. If it has any other name, what is it? In the late election our party platform was-Mitchel. Our platform had but one plank-Mitchel. Our banners bore but one device-Mitchel; but one portrait-Mitchel, or something that tried to look like Mitchel. We seem to have been obsessed by the notion that here was a youth born specially to bear 'mid snow and ice the banner with that strange device; a youth with a mission-a David-a Daniel-a Perseus: yes, that is it-Perseus! For our devoted city, these many years, had been ravaged by a monster—that had devoured *New York City, January 24, 1914.