iscovered in 1884, when, in
Washington, the post-mortem trial of DeLong and his men was in progress.
There was nothing to be gained by the controversy. There were no laurels
to be awarded by this investigation, because the men whose fame was most
involved were dead. It was a quarrel, and the "Jeannette" was the
graveyard in which it took place. It was disgraceful.

Jealousy is the rage of a man, also of a woman.

It was evident, in the progress of this one-sided trial, that our
legislature needed to have their corridors, their stairways, and their
rooms cleaned of lobbyists.

At the State Capital in Albany, one bright spring morning in the same
year, the legislature rose and shook itself, and the Sergeant-at-Arms
was instructed to drive the squad of lobbyists out of the building. He
did it so well that he scarcely gave them time to get their canes or
their hats. Some of the lowest men in New York and Brooklyn were among
them. That was a spring cleaning worth while. But it was only a little
corner of the political arena that was unclean.

I remember how eagerly, when I went to Canada in April, the reporters
kept asking me who would be the next President. It would have been such
an easy thing to answer if I had only known who the man was. In this
dilemma I suggested some of our best presidential timber in Brooklyn as
suitable candidates. These were General Slocum, General Woodford,
General Tracey, Mayor Low, Judge Pratt, Judge Tierney, Mr. Stranahan,
and Judge Neilson. Some of these men had been seriously mentioned for
the office. Honourable mention was all they got, however. They were too
unpretentious for the role. It was the beginning of a mud-slinging
campaign. New York versus New York--Brooklyn versus Brooklyn.

I long ago came to the conclusion that the real heroes of the world were
on the sea. The ambitions of men crowded together on land were
incontestably disgusting. On the vast, restless deep men stand alone, in
brave conflict with constant danger. I was always deeply impressed by
the character of men, as revealed in disasters of the sea. There were
many of them during my life-time. The bigger the ships grew, the more
dangerous became ocean travel. Our improvements seemed to add to the
humour of grim old Neptune. In 1884 the ocean was becoming a great
turnpike road, and people were required by law to keep to the right or
to the left. A population of a million sailors was on the sea at all
times. Some of the