Pine to Potomac

by E. K. Cressey

“His immense industry; his great enlightenment, and he has always been a growing man! He has such great force of character, and such large intellectual power, and then he is such a social man. He knows so much, and is so interesting in conversation. He will talk to a peasant so that he will take it all in, and a prince sitting by will enjoy it.”

Captain Lincoln and his wife, New England people, but from the Sandwich Islands, where he had been for some five years in charge of a vessel, called to see him about the middle of June, to pay their congratulations; and it was pleasant to observe, how, without a trace of aristocracy, but with a genuine manliness, he sat down just like a brother, and talked with them of their interests, the Island and ocean affairs, and observed, “They don’t have any more roast missionary out there now”; but this was slipped into a sentence that almost gave a history of the Islands. And as he discussed ocean problems, routes to Mexico, and different parts of America, North and South, the captain’s eyes opened with admiration. And it was not a display of knowledge, but brought out in questions, as to what do you think of such a project, and in stating a few brief reasons for it, the man’s information not only cropped out, but burst forth. He seems so full of it, that when it can find a vent it comes forth in deluge fashion, much as water does from a fire-plug.

Mr. Blaine never could be a specialist, but must be world-wide in his knowledge, as he is in his sympathies. Some men are like ponds in which trout are raised,—small and narrow, serve a single purpose, and serve it well; but he is more like the ocean,—broad, and grand, and manifold in the purposes he serves, and deep as well. Mr. Blaine is not a shallow man. His has not been the skimming surface-life of the swallow, but rather the deep-delving life of reality and substance. Deep-sea soundings, both of men and things, have been a peculiar delight to him.

Curiosity has ever been a secret spring in him. He must know all, and he would hunt, and rummage, and delve, and search, until he did. He has the scent of a greyhound for evidence, however abstract, and he would track it down somehow, “with all the precision of the most deadly science,” as he did the telegram which Proctor Knott suppressed. This inborn faculty, which he has developed to a marvelous degree, has been a mighty weapon of defence to him, when combinations and conspiracies have been formed against him, and of the most cruel character, for his destruction. For, let it not be forgotten, that he has lived through that era of American life when the great effort was to kill off, politically, the great men of the Republican party. A rebel congress of Southern brigadiers did their worst, but the nation applauded as he triumphed.

The same knowledge seems greater power in him than in ordinary men, or than in almost any other man, because of his great intellectual force. Just as a dinner amounts to more in some men, because of greater power of digestion,—just as the smooth stone from the brook when in David’s sling went with greater precision and power, penetrating the forehead of Goliath. It is the man and in his combinations, manner, methods, and the time, and yet all of these have little to do with it. Force and directness seem to express it all. Conventionalities are merely conveniences to Mr. Blaine, and when not such are instantly discarded. Common sense is the pilot of his every voyage. Everything is sacrificed to this. This, and this alone, has been the crowned king of his entire career, and all else merely subjects.

What he has seen in the clear, strong light of his own best judgment, enlightened by a vast and varied knowledge, he has seized and sworn to. He has never plundered others of their cast-iron rules; he had no use for them. Saul’s armor never fitted him. He has delighted in the fathers’ reverences and laws, though but seldom quotes them. He has no time or taste for such easy, common methods. He is too original. And this is one of the strongest features of the man. He is not simply unlike any other man, but has no need of resemblance. He has much of the impetuosity and fiery eloquence of Clay, but then he has more of the solid grandeur of Webster. But then he is too much like himself to be compared intelligibly with others.

There are great extremes in his nature,—not necessarily contradictions, yet opposites. He is one of the most fervid men, and yet one of the most stoical at times, perfectly cool when others are hot and boiling. He never loses his head. There is never a runaway,—but great coolness and self-possession when it is needed, and ability to turn on a full head of steam, when the occasion requires. Here is the testimony of a scholar and author:—

“One element in his nature impressed itself upon my mind in a very emphatic manner, and that is his coolness and self-possession at the most exciting periods. I happened to be in his library in Washington when the balloting was going on in Cincinnati on that hot day in June, 1876. A telegraph-instrument was on his library table, and Mr. Sherman, his private secretary, a deft operator, was manipulating its key. Dispatches came from dozens of friends, giving the last votes, which only lacked a few of the nomination; and everybody predicted the success of Mr. Blaine on the next ballot. Only four persons besides Mr. Sherman were in the room. It was a moment of great excitement. The next vote was quietly ticked over the wire, and then the next announced the nomination of Mr. Hayes. Mr. Blaine was the only cool person in the apartment. It was such a reversal of all anticipations and assurances, that self-possession was out of the question except with Mr. Blaine.

“He had just left his bed after two days of unconsciousness from sunstroke, but he was as self-possessed as the portraits upon the walls. He merely gave a murmur of surprise, and, before anybody had recovered from the shock, he had written, in his firm, plain, fluent hand, three dispatches, now in my possession: one to Mr. Hayes, of congratulation; one to the Maine delegates, thanking them for their devotion; and another to Eugene Hale and Mr. Frye, asking them to go personally to Columbus and present his good-will to Mr. Hayes, with promises of hearty aid in the campaign. The occasion affected him no more than the news of a servant quitting his employ would have done. Half an hour afterward he was out with Secretary Fish in an open carriage, receiving the cheers of the thousands of people who were gathered about the telegraph-bulletins.”

This power of self-control seems to be supreme. It is just the particular in which so many of our great men, and small ones too, have miserably failed. This enables him to harness all his powers and hold well the reins,—to bring all his forces into action when emergency requires, and send solid shot, shrapnel, or shell, with a cool head and determined hand.