Ungrim

Death is grim, but Thomas R. Marshall was never grim. If there was ever a baby born with a smile on its face, it must have been he. It was 71 years ago last March that his smile came into the world. Last week, it flickered out for the last time.

He held only two offices of any importance--the Governorship of Indiana (1909-13) and the Vice Presidency of the U. S. (1913-21). In many ways, he was too genuine for the pomposities of politics.

He came from old U. S. stock--on his father's side from the family which produced John Marshall; on his mother's side from Charles Carroll, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. At 19, he was graduated from Wabash College (Crawfordsville, Ind.). At 21, he took to the bar and stayed there for 34 years.

As presiding officer of the Senate, he ridded himself of the officer's throne and took to an ordinary chair. He was frequently at war on the humorless views of the Senate over which he presided. His lightness of disposition alienated the affections of many of the more serious-minded.

History might have been a great deal different if the good-natured Marshall had had the luck of Mr. Coolidge and succeeded to the Presidency. For the first time since the night when John Wilkes Booth ended a President's life would there have been a gifted humorist in the White House--a man who could not take himself too seriously at any time, a man who looked out on the world with an appreciation of its futilities as well as its merits and its difficulties--not that Marshall measured up in all respects to the greatness of Lincoln.

Last week, he went to the capital from Indianapolis for a visit of ten days. Soon after, he was taken ill with a cold. A heart attack followed and Thomas R. Marshall died.