One of the chief principles for which I have stood and for which I now stand, and which I have always endeavoured and always shall endeavour to reduce to action, is the genuine rule of the people; and, therefore, I hope that so far as possible the people may be given the chance, through direct primaries, to express their preference as to who shall be the nominee of the Republican Presidential Convention.

During this period I called on Roosevelt one day at the offices of "The Outlook," and he handed me the galley-proof of a speech he was to make before the Const.i.tutional Convention at Columbus, Ohio. He called it "The Charter of Democracy." His room was full of callers, so I went into Dr. Abbott's office and there carefully read the speech. In it Roosevelt advocated, among other reforms such as the short ballot and the initiative and referendum, the recall of judicial decisions. When I came to that subject I confess I was shocked, and so expressed myself to one of the editors of "The Outlook"; as I remember it, it was Dr. Abbott himself. Compelled to keep another appointment, I left the office when I had finished reading the speech, saying that I should return later.

Upon my return I met Roosevelt just as he was going out to keep an engagement.

"I hear you don't like my speech," he said to me.

"I like your speech; I think it is fine; all but that portion of it which refers to the recall of judicial decisions," I answered. I started to give my reasons, but seeing that he was pressed for time, I said: "I should like to discuss that matter with you, provided your mind is open on the subject." To my great surprise he said that he had thought the subject over very carefully, and frankly told me that he had come to a definite decision on it.

That was so unlike the Roosevelt I knew in the many discussions I had had with him, when invariably I found his mind responsive, that I was quite disappointed and somewhat taken back. But I did not want him to feel that I had joined the ranks of the many who had parted political company with him because he had made it known that he would accept another nomination for President, and so, on reaching my office, I wrote him a letter, briefly explaining why I objected to his statements regarding the recall of judicial decisions. I a.s.sured him that on that account I did not part from him politically, for after all I agreed with him more than with any other candidate who might possibly be named.

The birth and development of the Progressive Party is, of course, an element of national history that has often been detailed. William Draper Lewis, in his "Life of Theodore Roosevelt," and Lawrence F. Abbott, in his "Impressions of Theodore Roosevelt," both give clear accounts of it.

Roosevelt's candidacy and defeat have been variously a.n.a.lyzed, but I believe now, as I believed in 1912, that but for this unfortunate statement regarding judicial decisions, Roosevelt would have been re-elected President in 1912. It is true that he afterwards clarified the meaning of his use of the word "recall"; that its application was limited to such decisions as held legislative acts unconst.i.tutional, and that such decisions might at the following election be submitted to popular vote, in accordance with the method employed by a State for the adoption of its const.i.tution. But his clarification never overcame the effects of the Columbus speech. William Draper Lewis, who was one of Roosevelt's closest advisers at the time, says in his biography:

Looking back now over the events leading up to the Republican National Convention of 1912, it would appear almost certain that had he, in his address before the Ohio Convention, either refrained from making the proposal or had he called it a new method of amending the const.i.tution, and carefully explained it so that it could not have been misunderstood, it is most probable that he would have been nominated at Chicago, and that the whole course of the recent history of the United States would have been other than it has been.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NATHAN, OSCAR, AND ISIDOR STRAUS

1912]

Shortly after the Columbus speech, Roosevelt delivered, on March 20, 1912, at Carnegie Hall, New York, what was in many respects the most forceful and eloquent address I ever heard him make. He graphically described his dedication to his ideals of democracy:

Our task as Americans is to strive for social and industrial justice, achieved through the genuine rule of the people. This is our end, our purpose. The methods for achieving the end are merely expedients, to be finally accepted or rejected according as actual experience shows that they work well or ill. But in our hearts we must have this lofty purpose, and we must strive for it in all earnestness and sincerity, or our work will come to nothing. In order to succeed, we need leaders of inspired idealism, leaders to whom are granted great visions, who dream greatly and strive to make their dreams come true; who can kindle the people with the fire from their own burning souls.

The leader for the time being, whoever he may be, is but an instrument, to be used until broken and then to be cast aside; and if he is worth his salt, he will care no more when he is broken than a soldier cares when he is sent where his life is forfeit in order that the victory may be won.

If on this new continent we merely build another country of great but unjustly divided material prosperity, we shall have done nothing; and we shall do as little if we merely set the greed of envy against the greed of arrogance, and thereby destroy the material well-being of all of us. To turn this government into government by plutocracy or government by a mob would be to repeat on a larger scale the lamentable failures of the world that is dead. We stand against all tyranny, by the few or by the many. We stand for the rule of the many in the interest of all of us, for the rule of the many in the spirit of courage, of common sense, of high purpose, above all, in a spirit of kindly justice towards every man and every woman.

A month after the meeting of the National Convention of the Progressive Party, popularly called the "Bull Moose Convention," which nominated Theodore Roosevelt for President and Hiram W. Johnson for Vice-President, the New York State Convention of the Progressive Party met at Syracuse, in the Arena. The convention met on September 5th.

All during the first day and night, amid lively discussion as to the selection of candidates for Governor, committees urged me for permission to present my name as a candidate; but I steadfastly declined, since the governorship, being so largely a political office, did not appeal to me.

I was neither by training nor by temperament a politician, although I had taken active part in campaigns for many years, both local and national. The next day I was asked to take the permanent chairmanship of the convention. This I was willing and glad to do; I wanted to be of service to the party; also it was a foregone conclusion that acceptance of the chairmanship would preclude my being considered a candidate for the nomination for Governor.

The Arena was filled with about seven thousand delegates and members of the new Progressive Party. The air was surcharged with the spirit of the new movement--the genuine enthusiasm of men and women of character and standing from every county in the State, and among them a great many ministers, professors, reformers, and leaders of benevolent and charitable movements. There was a conspicuous absence of the professional politician. Indeed, that convention had more the character of a town meeting than of a cut-and-dried political convention. Instead of having decisions made for them, this great body of enthusiasts were called upon to make their own. The candidates had not even been agreed upon.

On September 6th I took my gavel in hand and called the meeting to order. The first business before the convention was the nomination of a candidate for Governor. The secretary called the counties of the State in alphabetical order, and the chairman of each delegation made his nomination. The outstanding candidates for nomination were William H.

Hotchkiss, one of the organizers of the Progressive Party and chairman of the National Committee, and William A. Prendergast, comptroller of the City of New York, who had made the speech nominating Roosevelt for President at the Chicago Convention. A deadlock between these two candidates ensued.

After Yates County had been heard from, a tall, gaunt young man towered to his feet and asked to be heard; he was from the Fifteenth Manhattan District, and he had a nomination to make. It was not quite in order, though the spirit of the convention was to give each man a chance. While I was hesitating about recognizing him, there seemed to be a general desire that he be given an opportunity to speak, so I gave him five minutes.

He looked fantastic as he strode to the platform and faced the audience.

His manner was somewhat bizarre. He burst forth in dramatic fashion as follows:

Fellow citizens, ladies and gentlemen: I have just come down from Vermont. I ask you people at this convention to make no mistake.

We want to put a man up for Governor that no man will be afraid to cast his vote for, against whom there can be no charge leveled of misconduct of any kind, one who can sweep the State from Montauk Point to Lake Erie, and carry every man of every race, religion, and creed; a man whose name is known throughout the civilized world; a man the mention of whose name brings a tear of sympathy to the eye of almost every man and woman in the civilized land; a man whose name, wherever men are found with red blood in their veins, irrespective of race, religion, and creed, will be carried thundering throughout the State to victory.

There is no chance for defeat with this man at the head of the ticket--

"Who is your candidate?" cried impatient listeners.

"What's his name?"

"Name your candidate!"

In sudden answer to these cries from the convention, the speaker exclaimed:

I nominate the ill.u.s.trious and honorable Oscar S. Straus.

During the long, terrific applause that followed, the delegate stood awkwardly waiting for a chance to finish. Finally he went on:

We should take no chances in this fight. I could not say one undeserved word if I used the entire dictionary in praise of the other nominees, Mr. Hotchkiss and Mr. Prendergast; but, gentlemen, Mr. Prendergast or Mr. Hotchkiss would cause friction in the State.

We want no friction in this election. We want success and victory.

Gentlemen, there is not a newspaper editor in the State of New York that would any more a.s.sa.s.sinate the character of Oscar S. Straus than he would a.s.sa.s.sinate the character of his own mother.

Gentlemen, remember! Remember that Rome was saved by the cackle of geese. I have no political prestige, but I warn and charge you, put up a man for candidate for governor who cannot and will not be defeated.

Gentlemen, gentlemen, heed me! Make no mistake about Oscar S.

Straus. You will make no mistake in putting him up as your candidate, and you will capture victory and success. No man has had better distinction at home and abroad than Mr. Straus. I ask you to vote for him.

The moment he finished, a stampede started. The entire hall a.s.sumed the aspect of a good-natured bedlam. There was cheering and applause, and many of the delegates began marching round that big auditorium, brandishing the banners of their counties, singing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and breaking out in the end with "Straus! Straus! We want Straus!"

I pounded the desk with the gavel, I shook my head in the negative, but to no avail. The noise lasted fully twenty minutes.

The picturesque young man who had precipitated this scene was John G.

McGee, known among his colleagues as "Suspender Jack." He had been a member of the mounted police of New York City.

Meanwhile Mr. Hotchkiss and several other leaders came to the platform and insisted upon my accepting. They even brought Mrs. Straus up with the hope of getting her to exert her persuasive powers. There was no alternative; I had to accept.

Mr. Hotchkiss announced my acceptance, and immediately former Lieutenant-Governor Timothy L. Woodruff announced the withdrawal of Mr.

Prendergast and moved to make the nomination unanimous by acclamation.

That produced more shouting and cheering, accompanied by much applause and the waving of banners. It was a touching manifestation and an unexpected honor. I made a brief speech of acceptance, during which I found it difficult to hide the effect of all this demonstration. And with more applause and cheering, the session closed with the singing of "The Star-Spangled Banner."

The next morning the convention named for Lieutenant-Governor Frederick M. Davenport, who was Professor of Law and Politics at Hamilton College and had made an admirable record in the State Legislature. The ticket was then quickly completed and the convention closed.

The nominations were received with great favor all through the State and in the press. Roosevelt at the time was in the Far West conducting his own campaign, and wrote me from Spokane as follows:

THE SPOKANE SPOKANE, WASHINGTON _September 8, 1912_

DEAR STRAUS:

When I left New York I had expected Prendergast to be nominated and there were certain reasons, which I think you know, why I felt that, as a matter of principle, his nomination should be made.

But there was a still further principle involved, and that was that in this Convention the people should have their own way; and, upon my word, I am inclined to think that it was a new ill.u.s.tration of the fact that the wisdom of _all_ of us is better than the wisdom of any of us. Having in view the effect, not only in New York but the country at large, I think that your nomination stands second only to that of Hiram Johnson as Vice-President, from the standpoint of strengthening the ticket. If the only result of the next election were to place you in as Governor of New York, I should be inclined to think that the Progressive Party had justified itself.

My dear fellow, I am overjoyed; I congratulate you with all my heart. Give my love to dear Mrs. Straus and to Roger and your two daughters and all the grandchildren.