In February he gladly lent me his name for the New York advisory committee of “The Fatherless Children of France,” a society started by two magnificent Englishwomen, Miss Schofield and Miss Fell, for which I was privileged to form the New York City committee. “Of course use my name,” he says. I do not remember ever asking him for it that he did not lend it to me--that name which counted more than almost any other name of his time. In March, 1916, he sailed with Mrs. Roosevelt for Trinidad, and during his absence there began again the rumblings of desire on the part of the people of the United States to have him named as presidential candidate on the Republican ticket in the forthcoming convention. A certain faction of the Progressive party still clung to the hope that it could achieve its heart’s desire and name him on their ticket, but he had come more and more to the conclusion that the Republican and the Progressive parties must amalgamate in their choice of a nominee, for he firmly believed that Mr. Wilson’s policies had been of sinister influence in the country, and he was convinced that nothing was so important as to remove this, from his standpoint, unfortunate influence. More and more he believed that our country should bear a gallant part in the terrible adventure across the sea; more and more he preached the doctrine that we should go to the aid of the war-worn countries who sorely needed America’s help. I cannot refrain from inserting here a letter written by Colonel Roosevelt to his dear friend and classmate Charles G. Washburn, who had just published his able book called “Theodore Roosevelt--The Logic of His Career.” That book had special interest because, although Mr. Washburn never wavered in his personal, loyal, and devoted attachment to Colonel Roosevelt, his political convictions were such that he had not found it possible to follow the Colonel into the Progressive party. The book in question, having been written during the period between 1912 and 1916, the period when many people felt that my brother was politically dead, was published, strange to say, just as the pendulum swung back again, when the people realized the need of strong leadership in the crisis of the Great War, and Theodore Roosevelt seemed to many to be the man of the hour. “Dear Charlie:” writes Colonel Roosevelt, “We leave on the 10th of this month [for Trinidad]. I am much amused to think that there is a momentary revival of my popularity or notoriety or whatever you choose to call it, at the very time your book is to appear, for when you started to write it, indeed, while you were writing it, I was down at the very nadir; and only a very devoted friendship--others would call it a very blind friendship--would have made you write it. I, myself, thought that it was not wise for you to publish it, that nobody would take any interest in me, and that they would only laugh at you for your loyalty and affection.”