seldom prolonged beyond two or three ballots. The convention is at an end, and in another day the whole host of exhausted delegates and camp-followers, hoarse with shouting, is streaming home along the railways.

The fever heat of the convention is almost matched by that of the great cities, and indeed of every spot over the Union to which there runs an electric wire. Every incident, speech, vote, is instantly telegraphed to all the cities. Crowds gather round the newspaper offices, where frequent editions are supplemented by boards displaying the latest bulletins. In Washington, Congress can hardly be kept together, because every politician is personally interested in every move of the game. When at last the result is announced, the partisans of the chosen candidate go wild with delight; salvos of artillery are fired off, processions with bands parade the streets, ratification meetings are announced for the same evening, "campaign clubs" bearing the candidate's name are organized on the spot. The excitement is of course greatest in the victor's own State, or in the city where he happens to be resident. A crowd rushes to his house, squeezes his hand to a quivering pulp, congratulates him on being virtually President, while the keen-eyed reporter telegraphs far and wide how he smiled and spoke when the news was brought. Defeated aspirants telegraph to their luckier rival their congratulations on his success, promising him support in the campaign. Interviewers fly to prominent politicians, and cross-examine them as to what they think of the nomination. But in two days all is still again, and a lull of exhaustion follows till the real business of the contest begins some while later with the issue of the letter of acceptance, in which the candidate declares his views and outlines his policy.

CHAPTER LXXI

THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN

A PRESIDENTIAL election in America is something to which Europe can show nothing similar. Though the issues which fall to be decided by the election of a Chamber in France or Italy, or of a House of Commons in England, are often far graver than those involved in the choice of A or B to be executive chief magistrate for four years, the commotion and excitement, the amount of "organization," of speaking, writing, telegraphing, and shouting, is incomparably greater in the United States. It is only the salient features of these contests that I shall attempt to sketch, for the detail is infinite.

The canvass usually lasts about four months. It begins soon after both of the great parties have chosen their candidate, i.e. before the middle of July; and it ends early in November, on the day when the presidential electors are chosen simultaneously in and by all the States. The summer heats and the absence of the richer sort of people at the seaside or mountain resorts keep down the excitement during July and August; it rises in September, and boils furiously through October.

The first step is for each nominated candidate to

accept his nomination in a letter, sometimes as long as a pamphlet, setting forth his views of the condition of the nation and the policy which the times require. Such a letter is meant to strike the keynote for the whole orchestra of orators. It is, of course, published everywhere, extolled by friendly and dissected by hostile journals. Together with the "platform" adopted at the national party convention, it is the official declaration of party principles, to be referred to as putting the party case, no less than the candidate himself, before the nation.

While the candidate is composing his address, the work of organization goes briskly forward, for in American elections everything is held to depend on organization. A central or national party committee nominated by the national convention, and consisting of one member from each State, gets its members together and forms a plan for the conduct of the canvass. It raises money by appealing to the wealthy and zealous men of the party for subscriptions, and, of course, presses those above all who have received something in the way of an office or other gratification from the party.' It communicates with the leading statesmen and orators of the party, and arranges in what district of the country each shall take the stump. It issues shoals of pamphlets, and forms relations with party newspapers. It allots grants from the "campaign fund" to particular persons and State committees, to be spent by them for "campaign purposes," an elastic term which may cover a good deal of illicit expenditure. Enormous sums are sometimes gathered and disbursed by this committee, and the

1 As a recent statute forbids the levying of assessments for party purposes on members of the Federal civil service, it is deemed prudent to have no Federal official on this committee, lest in demanding subscriptions from his subordinates he should transgress the law.

accounts submitted do not, as may be supposed, answer all the questions they suggest. The committee directs its speakers and its funds chiefly to the doubtful States, those in which eloquence or expenditure may turn the balance either way. There are seldom more than six or seven such States at any one election, possibly fewer.

The efforts of the national committee are seconded not only by State committees, but by an infinite number of minor organizations over the country, in the rural districts no less than in the cities. Some of these are permanent. Others are created for the election alone; and as they contemplate a short life, they make it a merry one. These "campaign clubs," which usually bear the candidates' names, are formed on every imaginable basis, that of locality, of race, of trade or profession, of university affiliation. There are Irish clubs, Italian clubs, German clubs, Scandinavian clubs, Polish clubs,' coloured (i.e. negro) clubs, Orange clubs. There are young men's clubs, lawyers' clubs, dry-goods clubs, insurance men's clubs, shoe and leather clubs. There are clubs of the graduates of various colleges. Their work consists in canvassing the voters, making up lists of friends, opponents, and doubtfuls, getting up processions and parades, holding meetings, and generally "booming all the time."

This is mostly unpaid labour. But there are also thousands of paid agents at work, canvassing, distributing pamphlets or leaflets, lecturing on behalf of the candidate. It is in America no reproach to a political speaker that he receives a fee or a salary. Even men of eminence are permitted to receive not only their travelling expenses, but a round sum. Whether

1 At a

"parade" of a Polish campaign club in New York in 1884 more than 1000 Polish citizens are reported as present.

the candidate himself takes the field depends on his popular gifts. If he is a brilliant speaker his services are too valuable to be lost; and he is sent on a tour through the doubtful States, where he speaks for weeks together twice or thrice on most days, filling up the intervals with "receptions" at which he has to shake hands with hundreds of male callers, and be presented to ladies scarcely less numerous.' The leading men of the party are, of course, pressed into the service. Even if they dislike and have opposed the nomination of the particular candidate, party loyalty and a lively sense of favours to come force them to work for the person whom the party has chosen. An eminent Irishman or an eminent German is especially valuable for a stumping tour, because he influences the vote of his countrymen. Similarly each senator is expected to labour assiduously at his own State, where presumably his influence is greatest, and any refusal to do so is deemed a pointed disapproval of the candidate.

The committees print and distribute great quantities of campaign literature, pamphlets, speeches, letters, leaflets, and one can believe that this printed matter is more serviceable than it would be in England, because a larger part of the voters live in quiet country places, and like something to read in the evening. Even novelettes are composed in the interests of a candidate. I found mention of one, written by a literary colonel, in which "the lovers, while in the most romantic situation, are made to talk about the protective tariff. One-third of the book consists of love and tragedy, and the remainder is an argument for protection. (This is a large propor

1 Sometimes he stumps along a line of railroad, making ten minute speeches from the end platform of the last car.

2 Exceptions are rare, but there was one distinguished senator who refused to take the field for his party's candidate in 1884.