Though formal criticism has tardily died out, there is sometimes a warning against men of “one idea,” with a finger-point at myself. Here I meet my accuser face to face. What duty have I failed to perform? Let it be specified. What interest have I neglected? Has it been finance? The “Globe” will show my earnest and elaborate effort at the beginning of the war, warning against an inconvertible currency, and a similar effort made recently to secure the return to specie payments. Has it been taxation, or commerce, or railroads, or business in any of its forms, or foreign relations, with which, as Chairman of the Senate Committee on this subject, I have been particularly connected? On all of these I refer to the record. What, then, have I neglected? It is true, that, while bearing these things in mind and neglecting none, I felt it a supreme duty to warn my country against the perils from Slavery, and to insist upon irreversible guaranties for the security of all, especially those freedmen whom we could not consent to sacrifice without the most shameful ingratitude. As the urgency was great, I also was urgent. In season and out of season, at all times, in all places, here at home and in the Senate, I insisted upon the abolition of Slavery, and the completion of this great work by the removal of its whole brood of inequalities, so that it should not reappear in another form. But my earnestness and constancy only imperfectly represented the cause. There could be no excess,—nothing too strong. The Republic was menaced; where was the limit to patriotic duty? Human Rights were in jeopardy; who that had a heart to feel could be indifferent? Nobody could do too much. This was not possible. No wisdom too great, no voice too eloquent, no courage too persevering. Of course, I claim no merit for effort in this behalf; but I appeal to you, my fellow-citizens, that the time for reproach on this account is past. We must be “practical,” says the critic. Very well. Here we agree. But, pray, who has been “practical”? Is it those laggards, who, after clinging to Slavery, then denied the power of Congress, and next scouted the equal rights of the freedman? Permit me to say that the “practical” statesman foresees the future and provides for it.
Whoever does anything with his whole heart makes it for the time his “one idea.” Every discoverer, every inventor, every poet, every artist, every orator, every general, every statesman, is absorbed in his work; and he succeeds just in proportion as for the time it becomes his “one idea.” The occasion must not be unworthy or petty; but the more complete the self-dedication, the more effective is the result. I know no better instance of “one idea” pursued to a triumphant end than when our candidate, after planning his campaign, announced that he meant “to fight it out on this line, if it took all summer.” Here was no occasion for reproach, except from Rebels, who would have been glad to see him fail in that singleness of idea which gave him the victory. There are other places where the same singleness is needed and the idea is not less lofty. The Senate Chamber has its battles also; and the conflict embraces the whole country. Personally, I have nothing to regret, except my own inadequacy. I would have done more, if I could. Call it “one idea.” That idea is nothing less than country, with all that is contained in that inspiring word, and with the infinite vista of the same blessings for all mankind.
From these allusions, suggested by my own personal relations, I come directly to the issues of this canvass. Others have presented them so fully that there is less need of any minute exposition on my part, even if the heralds of triumph did not announce the certain result. But you will bear with me while I state briefly what is to be decided. This may be seen in general or in detail.
Speaking generally, you are to decide on the means for the final suppression of the Rebellion, and the establishment of security for the future. Shall the Rebellion which you have subdued on the bloody field be permitted to assert its power again, or shall it be trampled out, so that its infamous pretensions shall disappear forever? These general questions involve the whole issue. If you sympathize with the Rebellion, or decline to take security against its recurrence, then vote for Seymour and Blair. I need not add, that, if you are in earnest against the Rebellion, and seek just safeguards for the Republic, then vote for Grant and Colfax. The case is too plain for argument.
It may be put more precisely still: Shall the men who saved the Republic continue to rule it, or shall it be handed over to Rebels and their allies? Such is the simple issue, stripped of all hypocritical guise; for here, as in other days, the real question is concealed by the enemy. The plausible terms of Law and Constitution, with even the pretence of generosity, now employed to rehabilitate the Rebellion, are unmasked by the witty touch of “Hudibras,” whose words are as pointed now as under Charles the Second:—
“What’s liberty of conscience,
I’ th’ natural and genuine sense?
’Tis to restore, with more security,