but that an incredible number of Republican
voters refused to support their party ticket and stayed away from the
polls. The Blaine-Conkling feud, inflamed by the murder of Garfield, had
rent the party of Lincoln and Grant asunder. Arthur, a Conkling leader,
had succeeded to the presidency.

If any human agency could have sealed the breach he might have done it.
No man, however, can achieve the impossible. The case was hopeless.

Arthur was a man of surpassing sweetness and grace. As handsome as
Pierce, as affable as McKinley, he was a more experienced and dextrous
politician than either. He had been put on the ticket with Garfield to
placate Conkling. All sorts of stories to his discredit were told during
the ensuing campaign. The Democrats made him out a tricky and
typical "New York politician." In point of fact he was a many-sided,
accomplished man who had a taking way of adjusting all conditions and
adapting himself to all companies.

With a sister as charming and tactful as he for head of his domestic
fabric, the White House bloomed again. He possessed the knack of
surrounding himself with all sorts of agreeable people. Frederick
Frelinghuysen was Secretary of State and Robert Lincoln, continued
from the Garfield Cabinet, Secretary of War. Then there were three
irresistibles: Walter Gresham, Frank Hatton and "Ben" Brewster. His home
contingent--"Clint" Wheeler, "Steve" French, and "Jake" Hess--pictured
as "ward heelers"--were, in reality, efficient and all-around,
companionable men, capable and loyal.

I was sent by the Associated Press to Washington on a fool's
errand--that is, to get an act of Congress extending copyright to the
news of the association--and, remaining the entire session, my business
to meet the official great and to make myself acceptable, I came into
a certain intimacy with the Administration circle, having long had
friendly relations with the President. In all my life I have never
passed so delightful and useless a winter.

Very early in the action I found that my mission involved a serious and
vexed question--nothing less than the creation of a new property--and I
proceeded warily. Through my uncle, Stanley Matthews, I interested the
members of the Supreme Court. The Attorney General, a great lawyer and
an old Philadelphia friend, was at my call and elbow. The Joint Library
Committee of Congress, to which the measure must go, was with me. Yet
somehow the scheme lagged.

I could not acc