stirring way in which he said it. The great climax came when he uttered
these moving words: "The future is not for parties 'playing politics' but
for measures conceived in the largest spirit, pushed by parties whose
leaders are statesmen, not demagogues, who love not their offices but
their duty and their opportunity for service. We are witnessing a
renaissance of public spirit, a reawakening of sober public opinion, a
revival of the power of the people, the beginning of an age of thoughtful
reconstruction that makes our thoughts hark back to the age in which
democracy was set up in America. With the new age we shall show a new
spirit. We shall serve justice and candour and all things that make, for
the right. Is not our own party disciplined and made ready for this great
task? Shall we not forget ourselves in making it the instrument of
righteousness for the state and for the nation?"

After this climax there was a short pause. "Go on, go on," eagerly cried
the crowd. The personal magnetism of the man, his winning smile, so frank
and so sincere, the light of his gray eyes, the fine poise of his well-
shaped head, the beautiful rhythm of his vigorous sentences, held the men
in the Convention breathless under their mystic spell. Men all about me
cried in a frenzy: "Thank God, at last, a leader has come!"

Then, the great ending. Turning to the flag that hung over the speakers'
stand, he said, in words so impressive as to bring almost a sob from his
hearers:

When I think of the flag which our ships carry, the only touch of
colour about them, the only thing that moves as if it had a settled
spirit in it--in their solid structure, it seems to me I see alternate
strips of parchment upon which are written the rights of liberty and
justice and strips of blood spilled to vindicate those rights and