THE REPUBLICAN TICKET

In nominating Senator Warren G. Harding of Ohio as Republican candidate for the Presidency the Chicago Convention selected a man not of accomplishments but of possibilities. In spite of his rise from printer's devil to newspaper owner in spite of his honorable record as legislator, lieutenant-governor, and United States senator from a pivotal state, Mr. Harding's name is not distinguished by any title of achievement. In his ability to make friends, to deliver a telling speech, and to follow unerringly the spirit and the letter of sound Republican doctrine, Senator Harding is without a rival, and insofar as these are worthy qualities he would make an excellent chief executive. Unhampered by the inevitable enmities which every fearless and competent leader of men must face, aided by the support of the old-line party politicians, he stands in no ambiguous position. Nevertheless, to those Republicans who looked to Chicago for the nomination of a man of strong principles, revealed during a brilliant and active career, the selection of a man of Senator Harding's type will be a disheartening disappointment.

As the CRIMSON a few days ago surmised would happen a "comparatively unheralded candidate" emerged victorious from the welter of the convention. In retrospect it is easy to see how carefully the "coup" was planned, how the popular favorites were played off against each other to the point of exhaustion, how the well-coached dark horse was jockeyed into position in the intermediate ballots, and how he broke away for an overwhelming victory at the finish. The results of the convention reveal not only the inefficiency of the popular primaries, but also the total inefficiency of popular sentiment in affecting at all the final decision.

Senator Harding's running mate is a horse of another color. Equally inconspicuous a few years since, Calvin Coolidge stands forth today as the dominant personality on the Republican ticket. Of ancient New England stock, a shrewd, calculating country lawyer, "Honest Cal" has become in the person of "the silent man on Beacon Hill" a national figure. His telegram to Samuel Gompers, his second inaugural speech, have stamped him as more than an able politician. He has proved himself a vigorous statesman.

With a platform which leaves untouched the Irish enigma, the liquor question, and the bonus problem, and which passes lightly over treaty ratification and equal suffrage for women, and with a ticket reminiscent of the tail that wagged the dog, the Republican Convention has more or less adroitly passed the buck. Developments at San Francisco next month will show whether the passing was successfully accomplished.