This deliberate decision on the part of a man essentially legal in mind throws interesting light upon my brother’s actions and attitudes, assailed as he was at the time for lack of the very devotion to the Constitution for which Mr. Moody praises him. About the same time, from Kansas City, on May 30, 1916, my brother writes to me: “I hope you will like the speech I am about to make here. I have scrupulously employed the ‘we’ in describing our governmental short-comings!” Unless I am mistaken, it was about that time that my brother made a speech in Arkansas which--while the quotation which I am about to give has little to do with the issue of the moment--is so characteristic of his own fearlessness that I cannot pass it over. The strongest theory which I have evolved from the study of the ups and downs of political life consists in the belief that of all factors in permanent success (and permanent success means a place in history), there is none so important as that of moral as well as physical courage. More men have lost their heart’s desire because at the most crucial moment they lacked the courage to barter that very desire for an honest conviction than from any other cause. Theodore Roosevelt believed that he could help not only his country but the countries of the world were he nominated and elected in 1916, just as he firmly believed that should Mr. Wilson be renominated and re-elected to that position, America and the countries of the world would be worse off rather than better off, and yet, no matter before what audience he spoke, were it East, West, North, or South, he spoke with the ardor of conviction, never for one moment withholding one belief, no matter how unpalatable it might be to the section of the country to which he was giving his message, did he feel that that belief should be clearly demonstrated to that portion of the people. At Little Rock, Ark., the Governor of the State (I was told of this incident by a Methodist minister who was present on the occasion), during a speech in which he introduced Colonel Roosevelt to his stupendous audience, said: “We have an unwritten law in the Southland that when a vile black wretch commits the unmentionable crime, we hang him without judge or jury.” As Theodore Roosevelt rose to make his address, he turned to the governor and said: “Before I make my address to the people, Governor, I want to say to you that when any man or set of men take the law into their own hands, and inflict summary punishment on the ‘vile black wretch’ of whom you speak they place themselves upon the same base level as that same ‘vile black wretch.’” The stunned audience, silent for a moment, burst into vociferous applause. But the governor made no response to Colonel Roosevelt’s interpellation.