poses of those engaged in a political departure so important in its beginnings and results.

The New York Sun, calling them Mugwumps in opprobrious derision - with many imitators — overshot the mark. The name was welcomed by men who, like Doctor William Everett, knew that the word was borrowed from the Algonquin and in the original meant a leader or a big chief. In Eliot's Bible the word "centurion" in the Acts is rendered Mugwump. Thus from the enemy came a contribution to our political nomenclature. The word now signifies one who acts and thinks independently. There was real, if unconscious, humor in the early and ignorant use of Mugwump. Historians write of "the Mugwump movement" with warrant. The name has acquired a well-understood meaning, signifying ever-present possibilities in politics.

XXXVI

THE CAMPAIGN AND ELECTION OF 1888

INTEREST in the national conventions of 1888 centered in the leadership under which the Republicans, heartened by President Cleveland's tariff message, would give battle. Adherents of Mr. Blaine desired to see the line of 1884 reformed. He had promptly attacked the message in an interview given in Paris to George W. Smalley and printed in the New York Tribune. The new issue would overshadow former contentions. But signs of physical enfeeblement had sent Mr. Blaine to Europe, and from Florence, January 25, came a letter of declination to the Republican national committee. This opened the way to many aspirants, but still over the convention, which assembled in Chicago, June 19, hovered the possibility of another Blaine nomination.

Devoted admirers were reluctant to accept the January letter as final. Other delegates feared a second trial under the brilliant candidate whose vulnerability had brought disaster, and for some time the convention failed to find itself. After four days of marking time the situation was cleared by further messages from Mr. Blaine, then the guest of Andrew Carnegie in Scotland. He positively removed himself from consideration, and the

nomination of Benjamin Harrison was not long in coming. Twelve candidates were voted for. John Sherman led on the first ballot and rose to 249 on the second, his nearest approach to a presidential nomination. Harrison received 544 votes on the eighth ballot, 128 above the necessary 416. This result was in harmony with Mr. Blaine's desires. as embodied in a cablegram, but where he wanted William Walter Phelps of New Jersey nominated for vice-president, the delegates took Levi P. Morton of New York.

The Indiana senator had been among the unusually large field of "dark horses.' He promised to give satisfaction as candidate and president. The grandson of William Henry Harrison, elected to the presidency in 1840, who died only a little over a month after his inauguration, Benjamin Harrison brought sentimental appeal. He had an excellent record in the Civil War, rose to a colonelcy, commanded a brigade under General Sherman, and was breveted brigadier general "for ability and manifest energy and gallantry"; was a leader of the bar of his State, and a respected senator of the United States. Clean ability and substantial accomplishment had distinguished his career.

But tact and that indefinable thing we call magnetism General Harrison lacked to a degree not then appreciated, and the shortcoming was to limit his popularity and achievement as president. He possessed a gift for finished extempore addresses not surpassed by any other president. These talks exhibited a well-stored mind and an exceptional com

mand of limpid English which carried the thought with exactness and beauty. Such speeches needed no revision, and one read them with delight. But the austere presence and the cold delivery impaired their immediate effect. From the lips of a glowing speaker like Robert G. Ingersoll those Harrison speeches would have captivated the country.

The convention in which the Democrats led off was of the "short horse" order. The chairman of a carefully conducted political convention is expected in his opening address to strike its keynote, and lay down the lines for the campaign that is to follow. Occasionally a chairman does this; most chairmen do not. In this business the perfunctory usually prevails over the vital. The position is a test of the occupant's capacity for leadership. In few other places is such a demonstration of power called for. It fell to Patrick A. Collins of Boston to preside over the Democratic convention held in St. Louis June 5, which renominated President Cleveland. This chairman came close to the mark. His address was a cogent exposition of democracy, and a well-conceived appeal for the reëlection of the chief magistrate. Its immediate effect was lessened by the fact that General Collins (the military title, little pleasing to him, came through holding the office of judge advocate general on the staff of Governor Gaston) read his address. He was at his best in the unhampered give and take of political debate. Some of the newspaper correspondents, led to expect exceptional oratory, were disappointed in the delivery, while impressed by the clarity and strength

of the writing. Delegates from the South especially welcomed the crisp method of it, so unlike their style of political speaking. The Celtic New Englander pleased them.

Journeying to the convention I saw much of Mr. Collins, and the year before had reached the other side just after remarkable honors had been paid him in Ireland. If there has been a wiser representative of his race in this country, I have not known him; a better American there could not be. Fairmindedness and honor ruled his intense spirit. The career he had illustrates the possibilities open then, and beckoning still, to youth of worth and purpose, however lacking in influential backing. His widowed mother brought him to Boston when he was four years old. In Chelsea Patrick reached the grammar school.

En route through Ohio Mr. Collins said, "Do you see that smoke in the distance? When a lad I worked in a coal mine over there." That came about in this way. Mrs. Collins married again in 1857, the year of financial stress, and in the hope of betterment the family moved West, where she had relatives. For two years her son did various kinds of manual labor. A severe illness turned his thoughts and steps back to Boston. He sought work that might lead to mechanical engineering, but physical impairment blocked the way. He obtained a footing in the upholstery trade, and in 1863, when nineteen years old, became foreman of the shop, and in 1867 was receiving the highest wages paid to any foreman in the trade. For eight years his