The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 21, 1904, Page 15

Roosevelt et the great lines of str Roosevelt to not be ¢ Theodore Roos id through a that it is a public trust. here remain no corrupt men in b inder him if he knows it, not sought to fit the quali- 4 characters vy Procrustean 1g. He has not in been ruled by the ma- as he attempted to de- it, for he well knows composed only of pur- to dwell in the lone- ss of a minor- t in practical politics it that is essential to suc- sess m £aid a vention for Printer well drur who has a ) than I h entlemen,” State , fairly indiv vidua t, but I feel to.perform to oth- ed. »presentative govern- e drunken element demands representation ! (and it received it). circumstances led ty and Theodore Roosevelt during his earlier vears to labor in the library rather than in the forum, vet his campaign n 1890 and his t of the country in has the nat- ications of a wonderful ntanecus new ide be- rt of himse His 1 solvent of thought as can be thrown that they will come lized and” o« ct. limbed and no aqu has a a n t s supreme. n can and more cogently , or from cirgum- vast and read- correct o lusions, intuitive knowledge of his great g s seer iways to be at his imme- 1t requires opposition, X to evoke his full < he arises equal fo h sense of humor. The lers a uncomplainingly of med beef with which Com- n is allowed to but when, the were pa- cake, they and re- by ves, diet second Company le of fresh ker and Texan and npathiz- u poor /m ( Sy1 ut v full of 1Py mpanied on his of New York ar- t inter- the campaign. On a str desire to He admitted that as an orator ne , e “sat down” upca his ns, But he persisted in his cation and made a person il right, Jack,” thing to any hnd\ about I have finished my speech will introduce to the peal to you At the conclusion of his remarks night Colonel Roosevelt, v his eye, said: “Fello will now take the liberty of you for a few remar rirade, Sergeant Joseph that h a twinkle citizens, I itroducing my friend and Godfrey of members of the committee grew ith apprehension, but Sergeant Godfrey advanced confidently and wa welcomed with a roar of cheers, He stretched forth an arm like unto that of Bamso Muffriends,” said he, “I 1 no speakah. I have always been a ocrat, and when 1 return to Texas again be with meh party, but I nah kuhnal, and if I wah a votah I should vote for him, foh, suah, Some kuhnals I have seen marched in the reah, but mah kuhnal elways marched in the front. Some other kuhnals followed their regi- here he is a great man. wents accerdin’ to the army regula- Did mah kuhnal do that? No, ays led us; he led us like sheep to the slaughter.” And there the s ch ended, amid roars of laugh- When Theodore Rooscvelt as candi- date for.Vice President was on his g tour in the West, prepara- were made to give him a great reception on s arrival at Salt Lake The committee provided a mag- t horse caparisoned with the ican flag and an escort of twenty of the best horsemen in the State. Col- | Roosevelt on being informed of programme declined absolutely to “turn this cam- 1 1 shall be very after the reception is however, glad over to take a little horseback exercise around the eity? This was agreed upon and the guest was taken in a carriage to the rooms of the Aita Club, where, after a lunch and handshaking and speechmaking, th rman of the committee—himself one of the Rough, Riders, and accred- ited with being the best horseman in Utah—said to the guest: “If you do not feel too tired to take a ride about the city now, your horse is at the door, and 1 and a few of the boys will escort you and show you the way.” Roosevelt accepted and his animal— a magnificent bay—was led to the front. “Mount,” said the committeeman to the escort, and twenty cowboys leaped into their saddles. Shall I assist you to mount, Colonel Rosevelt?” said the ur- bane committeeman. *“It will not, I think, be necessary,” said the candidate for Vice President, placing his glksses in' his pocket and buttoning his coat. “I will iide alongside you and show you the course,” said the commuittee- man. “Thanks,” said Roosevelt, gath- ering the reins and bounding into the saddle. . The committeeman did not ride alongside—for reasons, and all that the committceman or the escort ever saw of their guest on that ride was a streak of dust from one hundred to five hun- dred vards ahead .of them until after a ten mile circuit Roosevelt drew rein again at the staiting point. To be esteemed great among the men of this day and generation requires qualiti and achievements in excess of any ever before demanded. As was said in substance by a great English poet, “We are dwarfs in knowledge in our relations to the physical and men- tal universe, but we are dwarfs perch- ed upcn the shoulders-of the giants of the gererations which have gone be- fore and our eyes scan a horizon which theirs could never reach. Those who can so tower ahove their fellows as to define an outline against such a hori- zon must be giants indeed.” The proverb which says that “some born to greatness, achieve greatness and some have great- nees thrust unon them"” may be ques- tioned. It is doubtful whether a man who is not born great can ever achieve greatness, for if fame be thrust upon a man of common nature he will be apt to contradict the proverh by prov- ing ufequal to the occasion. It is doubtful if circumstances or accident ever made a great man. They may de- velop latent genius, but God Almighty enjoys a monopoly of its creation. Theodore Roosevelt is a leader of men, leading not merely by superior power, but by superior .moral qualities. Men follow him because he impresses them with the idea that his own pro- motion is not his first care. His thoughts take directions from self sac- men are some rifice, “from care for others. In few natures are to be found poised with such perfectness and exactness the po- etical and the practical elements of mind. His early inspirations = took scholarly ways. He liked to unravel the mysteries of science, to analyze the legends of history, to untangle the paths of philosophy. Then he faced unflinchingly the exigencies of a West- ern frontier life. ’ He horrowed dignity and grace from the untamed grandeur of phys- 1 nature and courage was his by instinct and inheritance. His hardy, hopeful zeal saw high purpose in every storm that beat upon his cabin. As one result of this noble education he presents his thoughts in- English as terse and vigorous as it is pure. He takes the model for his expression from the classic philosophy of the THAT RIDE WAS A STREAR DuSsST— e e T VIR SIORT EVER SAwW QF THEIR OoF ancients; he drew the inspiration of action from the practical philos- ophy of the day. His bow has the stretch and beauty of one wielded by an ancient archer: the arrow strikes the mark with the precision and pow- er of a bullet from a Mauser rifle. He thinks .in Greek and acts in Anglo- Saxon. He walks with Socrates along the streets of ' a Montana mining camp and compels the philosopher of antiquity to electioneer for the Repub- lican ticket. He is the Chevalier Bay- ard of his century. He has all the singleness of purpose and devotedness of the Puritan and all the grace, cour- tesy and dash of the cavalier. He “would be equally at home in Athens or Chicago. The restless, hurrying life of the West suits his ardent spir the calm philosophy of the ancients is congenial to his classic mind. He is the type of Northern chLivalry—the spirit of generous daring and deflance of conventionalities mingled with ar- dent love of justice. A spirit born of the marriage of correct, cold, erudite, determined New England with the en- , warm-hearted and de t will never be of h anelle said of a French s as as good a heart 2 1ade out of brains,” for heart e close part- 1 his ident 1t is equally well to with a Harvard professor on the character of Pericles or to engage in a war of wit on the hustings. He faced the iron hail at Santiago unflinchingly and a few later he extorted from the s unmes 1 praise for his his- al essays on the American revo- lution. The history of his career affords a lesson which may well put hope into the humblest heart It is the proud boast of our Government that it is able to furnish a pedestal for such gifts and such goodness as are em- bodied in the character of our Pres- ident, and it is a boast not less proud that the people were wise enough and just enough to accord to him the po- sitions that he has achieved. Not all who win the race may wear ners the laurel, but one such selection re- deems many of the errors of our pel- itics and atc for many a corrupt or cowar: ice. writer of article was in Washington for a few days in the spring of 1903, and called at the White House to pay his r While wait- ing in the small anteroom adjoining the President’s private e there entered upon a similar errand of courtesy the grand old poet, Joaquin Miller. Joaquin and my wife and I e been close friends, in sunshine and in storm, for althou thirty years, gh w for some time. nversation, a the room was had not met aged in close not notice that ith Senators and Representatives, » had, the privilege of entering and who came to see the President on busi s did President Roose entered the room suddenly and aln brusquely. With rapid nods and greetings to the occu- pants he passed them by, and placing both hands in those of Joaquin greeted him warmly and er ged him in con- versation. It was hardly conversation, for it was a monologue of friendly crit- icism and praise of one of the later ef- fusions of the poet. “Wait a minute,” said Roosevelt, and he ran like a boy into an adjacent room and return with a manuscript in his hand. “ X said he, “I haveé quoted these lines of yours in this article.” And he then re- cited some verses by Joaquin, while the old poet stood blushing like a boy. “That is all that I can stand at ome time, Mr. President,” sald the peet, “Good-by,” and with a parting wring from Roosevelt's hand he started for the. door. And the Senators and Congressmen waited and listened and looked, and it seemed to be gradually dawning upon them that there are nearly 500 of them, all told, in this republic of ours, and only one Joaquin Miller. st HAT THE GOVERNMENT OF THE FUTURE WILL BE «igns of a revival of consequent upon the t in the labor I do mot believe lish people will ed cap of commu- Il rather follow the progress characteristic that I do not mean be satisfied with the of past times. Elee- to complete the demo- of Parliament should in- which the machine monarchy pregents no to-day. It is possible to a republic which would not ocracy; and we have ‘con- before our eyes a consti- monarchy consistent both iblican forms and with de- The British throne to-day -stone of the democratic that may, without any violence to the thrope, be made more fully democratic. If class influences, the be- quest of oligarchy, have to give way, as they must, and if the pcwvr of what is known as society is held in system check, as it will be, the prestige of the throne may be enhanced instead of dimmed. A radical change in the constitution and functions of the House of Lords may leave the consti- tutional monarchy unimpaired. A Republic in the Abstract. A House of Commons, “broad-based upon the people’s will” to an extent unknown to-day, may not be unmind- ful of advantages that an hereditary president can ofter over and above a party leader who rises to the chief of- fice of the state by a party vote. The late Peter Taylor, a predecessor of mine in-the representation of Leices- ter, once said he was “a republican in the abstract.” Well, we have a re- public in the abstract; I believe that in future it will be more and more a democratic republic. We have wit- nessed great social changes in the past; in the future we shall see more. The poor law is socialistic. The edu- cation act is another illustration of what I mean by socialistic develop- ment. The powers of poor law guar- dians in the relief of distress are very important. With a sympathtic com- munity behind them they may do much to relieve the distress of the aged and the sufferings of the sick. The day is coming when poor relief will glve way in many cases to old age pensions—the right of the aged, honest toiler. Some of us strongly disapprove of the last education acts; in the future they will have to be amended, and as they are amended they will become more goctalistic. But I see no evidence to show that the English people will adopt the ex- tremer forms of socialism which would undermine the true democratic ideal, If the experience of the past is any critepion we may rather ex- pect that as in the days of feudalism the King was held In check by the barons, as the reign of absolutism was stopped by the growth of parliamen- tary institutions, and as the develop- ment of democracy has been by stages not yet completed, so under democ- racy itself there will always be a force in public opinion that will hold in the By Henry Broadhurst, M. P. -l- leash, as it were, those who would lead the ship of state into deeps that had not been sounded and beset with rocks of which no charts had been prepared. What a Democracy Would Do. A thoroughly enfranchised democ- racy will have great regard for the rights and duties of society, but it will not forget the responsibilities of the individual. It will not destroy all pri- vate property or rob the individual of 1incentives to personal excellence, thrift and providence. Neither will it set the interests of a class above those of the community. An enlightened de- mocracy will refuse to take & narrow view of public needs and decline to inflate the prejudices of a section to the hurt of the, whole body. It will preserve individual right, but as so- clety is but the individual in the ag- gregate it will exercise the power of society for the communal good. The aged and deserving poor will receive assistance without any attendance mark ot':ll:cudsuon. The education technical umlnt-rlel lnd the universi- ties to all children with brains. As Sir Norman Lockyer said at the Brit- ieh Assoclation, henceforth science and brains will take the place of swords and sinews. Education; enlightenment is the vital breath jof democracy. De- mocracy in proportion as it is true to itself will insist upon efficiency in every department of the public service; the army and the navy will not provide outdeor relief for the scions of an ef- fete aristceracy. | The workers will be protected in their daily avocations and in their homes by a healthy environment and assured of compensation if they are wounded in the industrial fight. Should they fall in the struggle, those whom they leave behind them will not be deserted by the community to eat the bread of grudging chlrity ‘While private enter- prise will not be discouraged, means will be found for insuring a fairer dis- tribution of the wealth that capital and labor combine to produce; the rights of the state in land and minerals will be exalted above the privileges of dm& an it will have its difficulties and disap- pointments; but it will rise above them and carry forward that great work of national progress, which, though often obstructed and for a time thwarted, neverthcless moves forward slowly and surely. This faith iA democracy—not one class, but the combination of all classes, for the common good— was the faith of my youth and of my prime; it is the faith of my old age. I see no reason for abandening it; rather I hold fast to it as unto that which is good. The Results of Extending Suffrage. The question may be asked if the re- sults of the extension of the suffrage in England have been in accord with the hopes of the reformers who strove during so many years to place the re- form bills on the statute book. I am afraid the answer to that must be a negative one. Each act has been fol- lowed by the election of Parliaments that did much for the cause of progress. For example, the act of 1832 made pos- sible the reform of municipal corpora- tions; the years between 1868 and 1374 hnva been called the “golden un o! ism”; the last m.mmomlotrmntmln- ovltlbu. But tut:n-l and determination that “Agitators” of 1832, 1867 and 1884 found essential. They have fallen into apathy and indifference too frequently, as I should say. On the other hand, the Conservatives have found that all their fears were the vain imaginations that their opponents told them they were. Sir Robert Inglis said the Grey- Russell act would bring about & revo- lution; as a matter of fact it prevented one. When the Government in 1867 came at last to household suffrage in boroughs, it was sald in the House of Lords that they were “taking a leap in the dark.” Perhaps they thought it was a jump into the abyss, but the Liberal Ministry of 1368 was followed by a Tory government in 1874. Sir Staf- ford Northcote said the bill of 1884 would “let loose upon the constitu- encies” two millions of voters, unin- structed, and all the rest of it. These two millions, or very many of them, have helped to keep the Unionists in office and in power. Some of us had begun to think it possible in view of certain things that have occurred, that absolution might even be restored un- ner democratic or sémi-demacratic forms. We may have hopes that that will not be so, but Conservative alarms on account of the extension of popular freedom and responsibilities have been DroM to be groundless.