The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1916-10-26

1 iety of the accused mans wife and i parents. l advised him to cut that
 out, and said: "The President can- l not and will not act on those grounds. <; He must do what seems to him jus- i tice, however much his sympathies
 may excite him to mercy Show him
 the essential justice of what we are
 asking for, and stop there.
 The case was examined by the De-
 partment of Justice, which decided
 that the mans technical guilt was too
 manifest to warrant the departments
 interference with the due course of
 law. Then the President stepped in land pardoned the man outright not
 because he had family whose
 hearts would break, but because in
 the higher justice the man was ic- nocent
 1 This is the 'austerity" of Woodrow iWilson, the austerity of a man whose
 conscience will not permit him to
 govern his public acts by private
 sentiments, who cannot use public | offices to advance the fortunes of i those for whom he feels personal ] affection, who must keep his judg-
 ment cool, even when his heart is yearning the austerity of a man
 whose heart can break, ut can never
 be permitted to get beyond his own
 control.
 Only a few of us know what Wood | roow Wilson was really undergoing 1 in the summer and autumn of 1914, | when the world was catching fire
 from war, and the foundations of his own life were crumbling under him. | Just as the war opened my sister
 died. 'T cannot help thinking" he 1I,N f,1- that she might be spared the spec l tacle of some awful calamity | / was at the White House a great | deal that autumn and I know that | it is no exaggerated use of words to say that he was the loneliest man in all the world. 1 remember in par ticular a few bitter days when there
 were only three of us in the family circle. With characteristic solictude for others and Spartan fortitude he had deliberately and peremptorily thinned the household for the well fare of others He had compelled Margaret and Jessie and Frank Sayre to go to the summer home in New Hampshire for a change of air. He had forced even Dr. Grayson to take few days of rest for he saw that the doctor himself was in danger of illness after the strain of Mrs. Will sons illness and death. MT. and
 Mrs. McAdoo remained in Washing ton, and were much at the White House; but they also had their own home and obligations I can see the lonely figure of the President now, walking down the long hallway, the hair so much whit ened in the few months. His inti- fo fri fn ia the wish that the PCesident could marry again, as he was utterly deso- late. We who love him feel that God Himself must have directed the cir cumstances which brought Mrs. Gait into the White House circle. But for her we can only surrnise what might have happened, for not even the strongest man in the world could bear up indefinitely under that dumb grief. Sunlight and grace radiates from Mrs. Galt.' Her nature is big and generous and health giving. and | in that presence the President found | new life, found that love without | which he cannot live. Their love for l each other is perfect, and we all love her, both for what she has done for | him and for herself, for to know her is to love her. l
 She has entered this great career l as simply. as unaffectedly, as un- selfishly as Ellen Axson entered into | the obscure career of the young | lawyer who was abandoning law for | a new and untried life of scholar i ship and teaching To neither wo- man has condition, high or low, | meant anything;i to both Woodrow Wilson has meant all
 have lifted the veil from some pretty sacred things and I wonder if I should have done so. My sustain | ing thought is that some day these things would have to be- set forth | for men like Woodrow Wilson belong | to the world at large and ultimately | the secrets of their lives must be | made known to the world. The fu- | ture biographer will relate in detail | what I have summarized, when death 1! shall have made Woodrow Wilson impersona1. But in greatly conspicu- ous office there is already something | of the impersonalty of death, and so | I have. though not without misgiving | set down some things which it would | be sacrilege to publish if Woodrow | Wilson were still safe in the ob- i scurity of a college professorship. Be- cause he is what he is in public, it is f perhaps true that the public has | some right to know what he is in | private, and so I have written these | things, every word of which is literal | truth.