ish notions; that, if he be rich, he must liberally shovel out his money without asking where it goes; or, if he has ability, he must place it at the service of the organization for weal or woe.
How this sort of politics practically works where money and the machine are strong, we know from the experience of municipalities and of States. What it would accomplish if it spread over the whole nation, we can well conjecture. These evils are not confined to any one party. Both of them have their sins to answer for. But a candid study of our recent political history and our present condition has forced the conclusion upon me that in the Republican Party these tendencies have, owing to peculiar circumstances, come to their most dangerous development.
I cannot say this of the Republican Party without a feeling of profoundest regret. As a political being I grew up in and with that party. During its great endeavors for human freedom I saw in it all that was noblest and best. In its struggles I enjoyed the glorious sunshine of a youthful enthusiasm undisturbed by doubt or misgiving. And whatever of honor and distinction in public life fell to my lot I had under its auspices. I clung to it with almost filial affection and devoted allegiance, and hoped to belong to it all the days of my life. But the citizen of a republic is not permitted to forget that the duty to his country must be more sacred to him than all party sentiment or obligation, and that he has no right to be swerved from that duty even by the impulse of gratitude. I know well convictions of duty are different and lead different men different ways. I have to walk the path that my conviction leads me, although it leads me away from grateful attachments and cherished memories.
The Republican Party has indeed a glorious past. It sprang into being at the call of the popular conscience,
