THE “BOSS SYSTEM” IN THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE AND HOW IT PROVED USEFUL TO GERMANY Talaat, the leading man in this band of usurpers, really had remarkable personal qualities. Naturally Talaat’s life and character proved interesting to me, for I had for years been familiar with the Boss system in my own country, and in Talaat I saw many resemblances to the crude yet able citizens who have so frequently in the past gained power in local and State politics. Talaat’s origin was so obscure that there were plenty of stories in circulation concerning it. One account said he was a Bulgarian gypsy, while another described him as a Pomak--a Pomak being a man of Bulgarian blood whose ancestors, centuries ago, had embraced the Mohammedan faith. According to this latter explanation, which I think was the true one, this real ruler of the Turkish Empire was not a Turk at all. I can personally testify that he cared nothing for Mohammedanism, for, like most of the leaders of his party, he scoffed at all religions. “I hate all priests, rabbis, and brodjas,” he once told me--brodja being the nearest equivalent the Mohammedans have for the ministers of religion. I can also testify to the fact that Talaat paid no attention to certain injunctions of his Church, especially that against drinking; he was the presiding genius of a club that met not far from the American Embassy, whose tendencies were occasionally bacchanalian. In American city politics a streetcar driver or a gas-man has not uncommonly developed great abilities as a politician, and similarly Talaat had started life as a letter-carrier. From this occupation he had risen to be a telegraph-operator at Adrianople, and of these humble beginnings he was extremely proud. I visited him once or twice at his house. Although Talaat was then the most powerful man in the Turkish Empire, his home was still the modest home of a man of the people. It was cheaply furnished; the whole establishment reminded me of a moderately-priced apartment in New York. His most cherished possession was the telegraph instrument with which he had once earned his living; I have seen him take the key and call up one of his personal friends or associates. Talaat one night told me that he had that day received his salary as Minister of the Interior; after paying his debts, he said, he had just one hundred dollars left in the world. He liked to spend part of his spare time with the rough-shod crew that made up the Committee of Union and Progress; in the interims when he was out of the Cabinet he used to occupy the desk daily at party headquarters, personally managing the party machine. Despite these humble beginnings, Talaat had developed some of the qualities of a man of the world. Though his early training had not included instruction in the use of a knife and fork--such implements are wholly unknown among the poorer classes in Turkey--Talaat could attend diplomatic dinners and