ician, and the women bow down before the
noted preacher.

These classes of hero-worshipers melt into each other, of course, but
broadly they may be said to separately exist. In colonial days the
minister came first, the soldier second, the politician last. Since the
revolution the soldier has been the first figure in the triumvirate,
and in these later times the politician and his organ of voice the
newspaper have placed the preacher last.

And there is something wholesome in such an atmosphere, the atmosphere
of the West, at least by contrast. The worship of political success,
low as it may seem, is less deplorable than the worship of wealth,
which is already weakening the hold of the middle-class Eastern man
upon the American idea. In the West mere wealth does not carry
assurance of respect, much less can it demand subservience.

Bradley never dreamed of getting rich, but under Radbourn and the Judge
he had developed a growing love for the orator's dominion. He hungered
to lead men. Notwithstanding his fits of disgust and bitterness he
loved to be a part of the political life of his time. It had a powerful
fascination for him. The deference which his old friends and neighbors
paid him as things due a rising young man, pleased him.

He looked now to Washington, and it fired his imagination to think of
sitting in the hall where the mighty legislators of generations now
dead had voiced their epoch-marking thoughts. It amazed the Judge to
see how the wings of his young eagle expanded. The transformation from
a farmer's hired man to a national representative appealed to him as
characteristically American, and he urged Bradley to do his best.

The election which the young orator expected to be another moment of
great interest really came as a matter-of-fact ending to a long and
triumphant canvass. He had held victory in his hand until she was
tamed. The election simply confirmed the universal prophecy. He was
elected, and while the Democrats went wild with joy, Bradley slept
quietly in his bed at home--while the brass band played itself
quiescent under his window.

Now he fixed his eyes on Washington as an actuality. It was a long time
before his term began, and at the advice of Judge Brown and others he
packed his trunk in January to go on and look around a little in the
usual way of new members. He went alone, the Judge couldn't spare the
time.

The ride from Chicago to Washington was an epic to him. It was his ne