Chapter 28

"Those unfamiliar with Garfield's industry, and ignorant of the details of his work may, in some degree, measure them by the annals of Congress. No one of the generation of public men to which he belonged has contributed so much that will prove valuable for future reference. His speeches are numerous, many of them brilliant, all of them well studied, carefully phrazed, and exhaustive of the subject under consideration. Collected from the scattered pages of ninety royal octavo volumes of Congressional record, they would present an invaluable compendium of the political events of the most important era through which the National government has ever passed. When the history of this period shall be impartially written, when war legislation, measures of reconstruction, protection of human rights, amendments to the Constitution, maintenance of public credit, steps toward specie resumption, true theories of revenue, may be reviewed, unsurrounded by prejudice and disconnected from partisanism, the speeches of Garfield will be estimated at their true value, and will be found to comprise a vast magazine of fact and argument, of clear analysis and sound conclusion. Indeed, if no other authority were accessible, his speeches in the House of Representatives from December, 1863, to June, 1880, would give a well-connected history and complete defense of the important legislation of the seventeen eventful years that constitute his parliamentary life. Far beyond that, his speeches would be found to forecast many great measures yet to be completed--measures which he knew were beyond the public opinion of the hour, but which he confidently believed would secure popular approval within the period of his own lifetime, and by the aid of his own efforts.

"Differing as Garfield does, from the brilliant parliamentary leaders, it is not easy to find his counterpart anywhere in the record of American public life. He, perhaps, more nearly resembles Mr. Seward in his supreme faith in the all-conquering power of a principle. He had the love of learning, and the patient industry of investigation, to which John Quincy Adams owes his prominence and his presidency. He had some of those ponderous elements of mind which distinguished Mr. Webster, and which, indeed, in all our public life have left the great Massachusetts Senator without an intellectual peer.

"In English parliamentary history, as in our own, the leaders in the House of Commons present points of essential difference from Garfield. But some of his methods recall the best features in the strong, independent course of Sir Robert Peel, to whom he had striking resemblances in the type of his mind and in the habit of his speech. He had all of Burke's love for the sublime and the beautiful with, possibly, something of his superabundance. In his faith and his magnanimity, in his power of statement, in his subtle analysis, in his faultless logic, in his love of literature, in his wealth and world of illustration, one is reminded of that great English statesman of to-day, who, confronted with obstacles that would daunt any but the dauntless, reviled by those whom he would relieve as bitterly as by those whose supposed rights he is forced to invade, still labors with serene courage for the amelioration of Ireland and for the honor of the English name.

"Garfield's nomination to the presidency, while not predicted or anticipated, was not a surprise to the country. His prominence in Congress, his solid qualities, his wide reputation, strengthened by his then recent election as Senator from Ohio, kept him in the public eye as a man occupying the very highest rank among those entitled to be called statesmen. It was not mere chance that brought him this high honor. 'We must,' says Mr. Emerson, 'reckon success a constitutional trait. If Eric is in robust health and has slept well and is at the top of his condition, and thirty years old at his departure from Greenland, he will steer west and his ships will reach Newfoundland. But take Eric out and put in a stronger and bolder man, and the ships will sail six hundred, one thousand, fifteen hundred miles farther and reach Labrador and New England. There is no chance in results.'

"As a candidate, Garfield steadily grew in popular favor. He was met with a storm of detraction at the very hour of his nomination, and it continued with increasing volume and momentum until the close of his victorious campaign:

No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape; backwounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?

* * * * *

"Surely, if happiness can ever come from the honors or triumphs of this world, on that quiet July morning, James A. Garfield may well have been a happy man. No foreboding of evil haunted him; no slightest premonition of danger clouded his sky. His terrible fate was upon him in an instant. One moment he stood erect, strong, confident in the years stretching peacefully out before him. The next he lay wounded, bleeding, helpless, doomed to weary weeks of torture, to silence, and the grave.

"Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. For no cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, by the red hand of murder, he was thrust from the full tide of this world's interests, from its hopes, its aspirations, its victories, into the visible presence of death--and he did not quail. Not alone for the one short moment in which, stunned and dazed, he could give up life, hardly aware of its relinquishment, but through days of deadly languor, through weeks of agony, that was not less agony because silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he looked into his open grave. What blight and ruin met his anguished eyes, whose lips may tell--what brilliant, broken plans, what baffled, high ambitions, what sundering of strong, warm, manhood's friendships, what bitter rending of sweet household ties! Behind him a proud expectant nation, a great host of sustaining friends, a cherished and happy mother, wearing the full, rich honors of her early toil and tears; the wife of his youth, whose whole life lay in his; the little boys not yet emerged from childhood's day of frolic; the fair young daughter; the sturdy sons just springing into closest companionship, claiming every day, and every day rewarding a father's love and care; and in his heart the eager, rejoicing power to meet all demand. Before him, desolation and great darkness! And his soul was not shaken. His countrymen were thrilled with instant, profound and universal sympathy. Masterful in his mortal weakness, he became the center of a nation's love, enshrined in the prayers of a world. But all the love and all the sympathy could not share with him his suffering. He trod the wine-press alone. With unfaltering front he faced death. With unfailing tenderness he took leave of life. Above the demoniac hiss of the assassin's bullet he heard the voice of God. With simple resignation he bowed to the Divine decree.

"As the end drew near, his early cravings for the sea returned. The stately mansion of power had been to him the wearisome hospital of pain, and he begged to be taken from its prison walls, from its oppressive, stifling air, from its homelessness and its hopelessness. Gently, silently, the love of a great people bore the pale sufferer to the longed-for healing of the sea, to live or to die, as God should will, within sight of its heaving billows, within sound of its manifold voices. With wan, fevered face, tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze, he looked out wistfully upon the ocean's changing wonders; on its fair sails, whitening in the morning light; on its restless waves, rolling shoreward, to break and die beneath the noonday sun; on the red clouds of evening, arching low to the horizon; on the serene and shining pathway of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes read a mystic meaning which only the rapt and parting soul may know. Let us believe that in the silence of the receding world be heard the great waves breaking on a farther shore, and felt already upon his wasted brow the breath of the eternal morning."

We regret that we cannot give our readers the full speech here also, but it is sufficient to say that it was a masterly production. We give these three extracts from speeches to show, and enable the thinker to read and study the characteristics which make Mr. Blaine the great and renowned man that he really is to-day; an honor he has earned for himself.

We do not desire to be regarded as a personal admirer of Mr. Blaine. We are not, but his ability we are in duty bound to delineate truthfully. Our readers will observe the description Mr. Blaine gives in his address on Garfield, of the qualifications necessary in a parliamentary leader. We will say nothing as to our opinion of some enterprises in which Mr. Blaine has engaged; and we will not ask him to explain, what he has never satisfactorily explained, in relation to some transactions, nor will we try to explain, in our short space, his skillfullness in parliamentary practice. As before said, our readers have read his description of a parliamentary leader, and we will further simply say that Mr. Blaine is one of the most skillful parliamentary leaders in the country. He is generally recognized as such by all parties. His canvass for the presidency is well-known to the people. Had he been elected he would, undoubtedly, have made a very satisfactory president, probably one of whom we would long have been proud.

SAMUEL J. TILDEN.

In 1814 there was born at New Lebanon, New York, an infant son to Elam Tilden, a prosperous farmer. His father, being a personal and political friend of Mr. Van Buren and other members of the celebrated 'Albany Regency'; his home was made a kind of headquarters for various members of that council to whose conversation the precocious child enjoyed to listen.

Mr. Tilden declared of himself that he had no youth. As a boy he was diffident, and was studying and investigating when others were playing and enjoying the pleasures of society. From the beginning he was a calculator. Martin Van Buren, to whom he was greatly attached, often spoke of him as 'The sagacious Sammy.'

Thrown into contact with such men at his parent's home, he early evinced a fondness for politics which first revealed itself in an essay on 'The Political Aspect,' displaying ability far beyond one of his years, which was printed in the _Albany Argus_, and which was attributed to Mr. Van Buren, at that time the leader of the Albany Regency.

At twenty he entered Yale College, but ill-health compelled his return home. He, however, afterward resumed his studies at the University of New York; graduating from that institution he began the practice of law. At the bar he became known as a sound, but not especially brilliant pleader. In 1866 he was chosen Chairman of the State Committee of his party. In 1870-1, he was largely instrumental in unearthing frauds perpetrated in the city of New York, and in 1874 was elected the 'reform governor' of the great Empire State. Although in political discord with Mr. Tilden, it is in no disparaging sense that we speak of him. It is in the sense of a historian bound and obligated to truth that we view him. We regard him as the MYSTERIOUS STATESMAN OF AMERICAN HISTORY.

His personal character was, to a great extent, shrouded from the public in a veil of mystery, which had both its voluntary and involuntary elements. If Mr. Tilden had desired to be otherwise than mysterious it would have required much more self-control and ingenuity than would have been necessary to thicken the veil to impenetrability.

His habit was to weigh both sides of every question, and therein he resembled, though in other particulars entirely different, the late Henry J. Raymond, the founder of the _New York Times_; and the effect was to some extent similar, for each of these men saw both sides of every question so fully as to be under the power of both sides, which sometimes produced an equilibrium, causing hesitation when the crisis required action.

Mr. Tilden had intellectual qualities of the very highest order. He could sit down before a mass of incoherent statements, and figures that would drive most men insane, and elucidate them by the most painstaking investigation, and feel a pleasure in the work. Indeed, an intimate friend of his assures us that his eye would gleam with delight when a task was set before him from which most men would pay large sums to be relieved: Hence, his abilities were of a kind that made him a most dangerous opponent.

Some persons supposed that Mr. Tilden was a poor speaker because, when he was brought before the people as a candidate for President of the United States, he was physically unable to speak with much force. But twenty years ago, for clearness of statement, and for an easy and straightforward method of speech he had few superiors. His language was excellent, his manner that of a man who had something to say and was intent upon saying it. He was at no time a tricky orator, nor did he aim at rousing the feelings, but in the clearest possible manner he would make his points and no amount of prejudice was sufficient to resist his conclusions. He was a great reader, and reflected on all that he read.

No more extraordinary episode ever occurred than his break with William M. Tweed, and his devoting himself to the overthrow of that gigantic ring. It is not our purpose to treat the whole subject; yet, the manner of the break was so tragic that it should be detailed. William M. Tweed had gone on buying men and legislatures, and enriching himself until he had reached the state of mind in which he said to the public, "What are you going to do about it?" He had gone further. He had applied it to the leading men of the Democratic party. The time came when he sat in his gorgeously furnished apartment in Albany, as Chairman of a certain committee of the Senate. Samuel J. Tilden appeared before the committee to represent a certain interest. On that occasion Mr. Tweed, who was either intoxicated with liquor, or intoxicated with pride and vanity, grossly insulted Mr. Tilden, spoke to him in the most disrespectful manner, and closed by saying: "YOU ARE AN OLD HUMBUG; YOU ALWAYS WERE A HUMBUG, AND WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING FROM YOU!"

Mr. Tilden turned pale, and then red, and finally livid. A spectator, a man second to none in New York State for position, informed the writer that as he gazed upon Mr. Tilden he was terrified. Not a word did he utter; he folded up his books and papers and departed. As he went the spectator said to himself, "This man means murder; there will never be any accommodation of this difficulty." Back to the City of New York went Mr. Tilden. He sat down with the patience and with the keen scent of a sleuth-hound, and unravelled all the mystery of the iniquity which had cursed the City of New York, and of which William M. Tweed was the master-spirit.

Judge Noah Davis said to an acquaintance that 'Mr. Tilden's preparation of the cases against Tweed and his confederates was one of the most remarkable things of which he had ever seen or heard. He said that Tilden would take the mutilated stubbs of check-books, and construct a story from them. He had restored the case of the city against the purloiners as an anatomist, by the means of two or three bones, would draw you a picture of the animal which had inhabited them in the palæontological age.' It will be remembered that Judge Noah Davis tried the cases and sentenced Tweed.

It is not necessary for us to conjecture whether Mr. Tilden would have appeared as the reformer if he had not been grossly insulted by Tweed. That he had not so appeared until the occasion referred to, and that immediately afterward he began the investigation and movements which ended in the total overthrow of the ring and its leader, are beyond question. There came a time when Tweed, trembling in his very soul, sent a communication to Mr. Tilden offering anything if he would relax, but no bronze statue was ever more silent and immovable than Samuel J. Tilden at that time. It is remarkable that a man so silent and mysterious, not to say repellent, in his intercourse with his fellow-men could exert such a mighty influence as he unquestionably did. He did it by controlling master-minds, and by an apprehension rarely or never surpassed of the details to be wrought out by other men.

Mr. Tilden was capable of covering his face with a mask, which none could penetrate. The following scene occurred upon a train on the Hudson River road. Mr. Tilden was engaged in a most animated conversation with a leading member of the Republican party with whom he entertained personal confidential relations. The conversation was one that brought all Mr. Tilden's learning and logical forces into play. It was semi-literary, and not more political than was sufficient to give piquancy to the interview. A committee of the lower class of ward politicians approaching, Mr. Tilden turned to receive him, and in the most expressionless manner held out his hand. His eye lost every particle of lustre and seemed to sink back and down. The chairman of the committee stated the point he had in view. Mr. Tilden asked him to restate it once or twice; made curious and inconsequential remarks, appeared like a man just going to sleep, and finally said: "I will see you on the subject on a future occasion." The committee withdrew. In one moment he resumed the conversation with the brilliancy and vivacity of a boy. Subsequently the chairman of the committee said to the leading Republican, whom he also knew: "Did you ever see the old man so nearly gone as he was to-day? Does he often get so? Had he been taking a drop too much?"

He was at no time in his career embarrassed in his intellectual operations by his emotional nature; he was a man of immense brain-power, and his intellect was trained up to the last possibility; every faculty was under his control; until his health failed he knew no such other source of joy as WORK.

Craft had a very important place in his composition, but it was not the craft of the fox; it was a species of craft which at its worst was above mere pettifogging, and at its best was unquestionably a high type of diplomacy. Those mistake who considered him only as a cunning man. A person opposed to him in politics, but who made a study of his career, observed that in power of intellect he had no superior at the bar of New York, nor among the statesmen of the whole country. The supreme crisis of his life was when he believed himself elected President of the United States. The political aspect we will not revive, except to say that Mr. Tilden consented to the peculiar method of determining the case. The departure of David Davis from the supreme bench in all human probability determined the result.

It is known that Abram S. Hewitt, David Dudley Field, and eminent Democratic leaders, Hewitt being chairman of the National Democratic committee at the time, did all in their power to induce Mr. Tilden to issue a letter to the American people saying that he believed himself to be the President elect, and that on the fourth day of March 1877, he would come to Washington to be inaugurated. Had that been done God alone can tell what would have been the result. In all probability a _coup d'etat_ on one side or the other, followed by civil war or practical change in the character of the relations of the people to the Federal Government. At that moment Mr. Tilden's habit of balancing caused him to pursue the course that he did. It is reported that Mr. Tilden's letter explaining to Mr. Hewitt the reason why he would not do so is still in existence. Of this we know nothing; but that he had reasons and assigned them is certain. Why he consented to the method of arbitration is one of the mysteries of his career. Taking all the possibilities into account, the fact that the issue passed without civil war is an occasion of devout thankfulness to Almighty God. But the method of determining the question is one which the good sense of the American people will never repeat.

Mr. Tilden must have had considerable humor in his composition. Some years ago a Methodist preacher came to the city of New York to raise money for a certain church in Pennsylvania which had been grievously embarrassed. He stayed at the house of one of the ministers in Brooklyn. One evening he said to his host: "I am going to call on Samuel J. Tilden and see if I can't get something out of him for our church. He has a 'barrel,' and I understand it is pretty full." The next morning he went, and on returning said to his host: "Well, I called on Mr. Tilden, and I said: 'Mr. Tilden, I am from----, such a place, in Pennsylvania. My name is----. I am pastor of a church there. We have met with great misfortunes, and are likely to lose our church. There are more than sixty members of my church that voted for you for President, and they are ready to vote for you again, and they wanted me to call on you and tell you of their misfortune, and ask you to give them a little help.'"

"Well, what did Mr. Tilden say?" "He looked up and said he was busy, but told me to come the next morning at nine o'clock." He went, and on his return reported, when the question: "What did Mr. Tilden say"? was asked. "He said to me, 'Your name is----? You are from----, in Pennsylvania? You said that you had more than sixty members who voted for me for President, and who are ready to do it again"? "Yes." "And they wanted you to tell me of their misfortune"? "Yes." Then pulling out of his pocket-book he counted what money he had, which amounted to $15, and handed me $14, and said: "You tell them that Samuel J. Tilden gave you ALL THE MONEY HE HAD EXCEPT ONE DOLLAR, WHICH HE KEPT FOR HIMSELF." In all probability he was satirizing an appeal under those circumstances.

For his service in breaking up the Tweed ring, and for his career as Governor of the State of New York, apart from purely party aspects, he is entitled to the thanks of the people. His own party will say to the end of time that he was elected president of the United States, and defrauded out of the office. But neither they nor anyone else can say, after the plan was agreed upon and adopted for determining the result, that the person who did occupy the chair did not have a legal right there, and was not president after the acceptance by the House of Representatives of the conclusion.

Mr. Tilden will never be considered inferior in intellect and learning to the many great men of whom New York can proudly boast. He will ever be ranked with Daniel Tompkins, George Clinton, William L. Marcy, Silas Wright, William H. Seward, John A. Dix and many others, and it is not strange that it was with a feeling of deep and genuine regret that on the 4th of August, 1886, the people were told of his sudden death at 'Greystone.'

HENRY WARD BEECHER.

A sturdy tree, standing alone in a vast field, suggesting strength, growth and independence, and regarded both as a landmark and a shelter; withstanding alike the heats of summer and wrestling with and throwing off the blasts of winter; drawing from Nature her myriad stores of nutrition and giving back to Nature a wealth of power and grace in return; seemed Henry Ward Beecher, in his youth of old age, to the observation of men. Original orator, advocate, poet, humorist, agitator, rhetorician, preacher, moralist and statesman. The greatest preacher of modern times, possibly of all times, the man was one of the wonders of America; one of the marvels of the world.