It is doubtful if there has ever been a political campaign in the United States where the appeal for money was so frank—the acknowledgment that success depended upon it so open. For several years the party had been relying more and more on the use of money and had also been less and less nice about how it used it. It was an open secret that Indiana had been carried in 1880 by the “bright new crisp two-dollar bills” of Stephen W. Dorsey, secretary of the National Republican Executive Committee. The dominant faction of the party seemed indeed to think Dorsey’s work nothing more than a clever trick; no less a person than General Arthur, soon to be inaugurated as Vice-President of the United States, boasting of it at a dinner at Delmonico’s in February, 1881, said, “Indiana was really, I suppose, a Democratic state. It had been put down in the books always as a state that might be carried by close and perfect organization and a great deal of ——” General Arthur hesitated, while everybody laughed. “I see the reporters are present,” he continued; “therefore I will simply say that everybody showed a great deal of interest in the occasion and distributed tracts and political documents all through the state.” The struggle for money in 1884 had been almost pathetic. Mr. Jones had of course the richest group in the country to draw from—the iron and steel manufacturers, and he gave liberally himself,—$87,000, it was reported at the time. He did not get enough, and a few days before the election, October 29, a dinner was given in New York for the express purpose of raising funds: a millionnaires’ dinner, at which were represented all the various “special interests” of the day, not tariff interests alone, but the railroads, the Standard Oil Company, monopolies and privileges generally. Large sums of money were pledged at this “Belshazzar’s Feast,” as the newspapers dubbed it. Who gave, and how much, were of course not recorded. David Wells said that he had it on the best authority that Jay Gould and John Wanamaker each contributed $100,000, but what his authority was the author does not know. Campaign contributions were not in as bad order in 1884 as they are to-day, but there was still a certain sense that contributions of $100,000 to campaign expenses, made on the eve of an election, were suspicious, and there is no doubt that the “monopoly dinner” helped defeat Blaine.