It was in many respects a strange era; it justified the phrase which an eminent writer had suggested for it,--of the “moral interregnum.” Immersed in the cares of private business, and chiefly actuated by an insatiable craving for money or the luxury and social distinction which money brought, the majority of those men who should have been the stay and support of good government paid little heed to public affairs, but rather left them to the control of adventurers, of professional politicians who followed politics as gamblers follow cards,--for the sake of what they could steal from more honest men,--of the least intelligent and least moral members of the state. Their common pleas were, either that they were invariably out-manœuvred in the political battle by these veteran strategists, and that they could do no real good at the primaries and the polls, or that the solid good sense and honesty of the country could be relied upon to come out and assume control whenever things passed beyond endurance, and that, meantime, all effort was simply thrown away. It is a natural assumption, now that the end has been seen of all men, that those who used these arguments must have been either fools or selfish knaves. Yet they comprised within their number a large proportion of the successful business and professional men of the country, who could not have thus succeeded had they been devoid of all ability, and who certainly regarded themselves as honest men. The result of their neglect of their country in behalf of their pockets was that while domestic morality, both ideal and real, remained in many parts of the land upon a lofty plane, public morality practically ceased to exist. Men were elected to office, not because they were fitted for the positions to which they aspired, nor because any one believed them fitted, but because they were “available;” because they happened to have few active enemies; because they were comparatively unknown, and nothing could be said against them; because they were rich enough to contribute liberally to corruption funds for the purchase of venal voters; because, in short, they were especially unfit for either honor, trust, or responsibility. The tone of public life became deplorably low. Officials of every station accustomed themselves to ask, when any course of action offered itself, not “Is it right? Is it wise?” but “How will it affect my continuance in office? Will it hurt the party’s prospects?”