It is possible that a direct proposition in 1865, to double the amount of the public debt as a free gift to the creditor-class, might have caused such a clamor as would have forever driven from power its authors, and have silenced the claims of modern Republicans that they were the sole friends of the soldier, and defenders of national honor. But the financial legislation of the Republican party has done more and worse than this. Its every act has been in the interest of a favored class, and a direct and flagrant robbery of the producing masses. It has won the support of corporate monopoly by blind submission to its demands, and, with brazen audacity, sought and obtained the co-operation of the survivors of the army by doling out pensions and promises. And yet, with a record that would have crimsoned the cheek of a Nero or Caligula, its leaders are posing as critics of honest statesmen, and the only friends and defenders of the soldier and laborer. The leaders of its earlier and better days have been ostracised and silenced in party councils, while audacious demagogues have used its places of trust as a means of casting anchors to windward for personal profit. Its party conventions are controlled by notorious lobbyists and railroad attorneys, and the agricultural population appealed to for support. Truly the world is governed more by prejudice than by reason, and American politics of the present day offer but slight rewards to manliness or patriotism. Clinton Furbish. THE HONOR OF AN ELECTION. (President Cleveland's Defeat, 1888.) Whose is the honor? Once again The million-drifted shower is spent Of votes that into power have whirled two men:-- One man, defeated; one, made President. Whose is the honor? His who wins The people's wreath of favor, cast At venture?--Lo, his thraldom just begins!-- Or is it his who, losing, yet stands fast? The first takes power, in mockery grave Of freedom--made, by writ unsigned, The people's servant, whom a few enslave. The other is master of an honest mind. From venomed spite that stung and ceased, From slander's petty craft set free, This man--the bonds of formal power released-- Moves higher, dowered with large integrity. Though stabs of cynic hypocrites And festering malice of false friends Have won their noisome way, unmoved he fits His patriot purpose still to lofty ends. Whose is the honor? Freemen--yours, Who found him faithful to the right, Clean-handed, true, yet turned him from your doors And bartered daybreak for corruption's night?