Chapter XI: Candidate for the Presidency (1)

To be thus made a mark conspicuous
For Envy’s shaft and brutal prejudice—
To hear above the loud huzzas the voice
Of some Satanic fool’s malignity
Roaring along the wind, like a wild ass
Braying th’ Assyrian desert, and to doubt
The applauding throng that gathers eagerly
To share the sunshine or perchance to weave
Some subtle scheme of selfishness,—all this
Is what the orators and poets call
The crowning honor!

A candidate for public office has a difficult part to play. There is constant and imminent danger that he will commit some blunder, and thereby put himself on the defensive. The fear of doing or saying something which shall put a club into the hands of the enemy haunts both himself and his friends. He is obliged to stand for some months on a high platform in the market-place, saying to the whole world: “Now get out your microscopes and your telescopes; with the one examine me, and with the other examine the heavens of my past, and see if you can’t find something that shall make me wince—some tender spot which you may prod and make me cry out with pain.”

Notably does a candidate for the presidency suffer from exposure to this fierce light and heat. All summer long he must be scrutinized and assailed. All kinds of attack he must meet with equanimity. Every sort of missile he must face, from the keenest-barbed arrows of analysis and satire to the vulgarest discharges of mud. To be angered is a sign that he is hurt; to bear it without flinching is a sign of indifferent reprobacy; to do nothing at all is a sign of cowardice! Of a certainty the American people will see their man. They will hear him, if he can be tortured into opening his mouth. To all this we must add the diabolical ingenuity of that inquisitor-general of the ages, the “interviewer” of the public press—that wizen-faced mixture of gimlet, corkscrew, and blood-sucker, who squeezes in, and bores, and pumps, and then goes away with a bucket filled with the ichor of his own imagination. This he retails to the public as the very wine of truth!

All the dangers of the case considered, the candidate generally adopts the policy of mum. He becomes _pro tempore_ a universal know-nothing. He has no ideas, no thoughts, no opinions. He has no political preferences. He has not heard the news from Europe. He does not know whether the Danubian provinces can compete with the American wheat-fields or not. He has never heard that there is an English market for American beef. He has never read a book. His family receive the newspapers; he does not read them. The grave problem as to whether the Mississippi runs by St. Louis he has not fully considered. The time of the year and the day of the week are open questions which he has not investigated. Such matters should be referred to the managers of the observatory and the bureau of statistics. Only on two things does he plant himself firmly; to wit, the Nicene Creed and the platform of his party!

How would General Garfield, now that he was nominated, bear himself before the country? Could one who had so long been accustomed to speaking out in meeting hold his peace, and assume the role of the typical know-nothing? The General seems not to have taken counsel with any body on this question, but simply to have made up his mind that the mum policy was pusillanimous, and that for himself he would continue to talk to his neighbors and friends and the general public just as usual. This was, according to the judgment of the trimmers, an alarming decision. Even thoughtful politicians were doubtful whether the outspoken, talking policy could be trusted. But General Garfield soon taught them and the country at large the useful lesson that a man can talk without being a fool. He began at once to converse freely on all proper occasions, to make little speeches to delegations of friends who came from all directions to pay their respects, and to abandon, both theoretically and practically, the monastic method of running for office.

But let us resume the narrative. In the evening after his nomination the General was called upon at the parlors of the Grand Pacific Hotel, and in the presence of a great company of ladies and gentlemen was formally notified of his nomination. Senator Hoar headed the committee appointed to carry the news to the nominee, and to receive, in due season, his response. The committee confronted General Garfield, and the distinguished chairman said:

“_General Garfield_: The gentlemen present are appointed by the
National Republican Convention, representatives of every State in
the Union, and have been directed to convey to you the formal
ceremonial notice of your nomination as the Republican candidate for
the office of President of the United States. It is known to you
that the convention which has made this nomination assembled divided
in opinion and in council in regard to the candidate. It may not be
known to you with what unanimity of pleasure and of hopes the
convention has received the result which it has reached. You
represent not only the distinctive principles and opinion of the
Republican party, but you represent also its unity; and in the name
of every State in the Union represented on the committee, I convey
to you the assurance of the cordial support of the Republican party
of these States at the coming election.”

At the conclusion of Senator Hoar’s speech, General Garfield replied with great gravity and composure:

“_Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen_: I assure you that the information you
have officially given to me brings the sense of very grave
responsibility, and especially so in view of the fact that I was a
member of your body, a fact that could not have existed with
propriety had I had the slightest expectation that my name would be
connected with the nomination for the office. I have felt, with you,
great solicitude concerning the situation of our party during the
struggle; but, believing that you are correct in assuring me that
substantial unity has been reached in the conclusion, it gives me a
gratification far greater than any personal pleasure your
announcement can bring.

“I accept the trust committed to my hands. As to the work of our
party, and as to the character of the campaign to be entered upon, I
will take an early occasion to reply more fully than I can properly
do to-night.

“I thank you for the assurances of confidence and esteem you have
presented to me, and hope we shall see our future as promising as
are indications to-night.”

As soon as the morning broke, General Garfield made preparations for starting home. It seldom falls to the lot of man to return home under such circumstances. He was followed by the eyes of millions. A special car whirled him away in triumph. By his side were a multitude of distinguished friends. A candidate for the presidency of the United States is not likely to want for friends. Those who accompanied General Garfield, however, were, for the most part, the genuine article. Many of them were his old comrades in arms; others were prominent politicians, some of them, no doubt, busy in constructing the fabric of a new administration with themselves for possible corner-stones.

At La Porte, Indiana, the train made a halt. That great organ of American noise, the brass band, came down the street with a multitudinous citizenship at its heels. The huzzas called out the General. He was introduced by Governor Foster, of Ohio. Then there were more huzzas, and the train rolled away. The same happened at South Bend, at Elkhart, at Goshen, and at all the other points, great and small, between Chicago and Cleveland. At the latter city there was an immense demonstration. The spacious depot was crowded with an enthusiastic throng, that burst out with far-resounding cheers as the General’s train came in. The city was all in a flutter, and it became evident that _the people_ were up and stirring. The great Ohioan was driven to the hotel, and, in response to a speech of welcome, said:

“_Fellow-citizens of my native county and of my State_: I thank you
for this remarkable demonstration of your good-will and enthusiasm
on this occasion. I can not at this time proceed upon any speech.
All that I have to say is, that I know that all this demonstration
means your gladness at the unity and harmony and good feeling of a
great political party, and in part your good feeling toward a
neighbor, an old friend. For all of these reasons I thank you, and
bid you good night.”

The following day, the 10th of June, was passed at Cleveland, and on the morrow General Garfield visited his old school at Hiram. The commencement exercises were set for that day, and the distinguished nominee was under promise to speak. Here were gathered his old friends and neighbors. Here he had first met his wife. She, with the boys, was now a part of her husband’s audience. Here was the scene of his early struggles for discipline and distinction. Here he had been a bell-ringer, a student, a college professor, a president. Here he had seen the horizon of his orphanage and boyhood sink behind him, and the horizon of an auspicious future rise upon his vision. Before the vast throng of visitors and students, at the appointed hour, he rose and delivered his address as follows:

“_Fellow-citizens, old neighbors and friends of many years_: It has
always given me pleasure to come back here and look upon these
faces. It has always given me new courage and new friends, for it
has brought back a large share of that richness which belongs to
those things out of which come the joys of life.

“While sitting here this afternoon, watching your faces and
listening to the very interesting address which has just been
delivered, it has occurred to me that the least thing you have, that
all men have enough of, is perhaps the thing that you care for the
least, and that is your leisure—the leisure you have to think; the
leisure you have to be let alone; the leisure you have to throw the
plummet into your mind, and sound the depth and dive for things
below; the leisure you have to walk about the towers yourself, and
find how strong they are or how weak they are, to determine what
needs building up; how to work, and how to know all that shall make
you the final beings you are to be. Oh, these hours of building!

“If the Superior Being of the universe would look down upon the
world to find the most interesting object, it would be the
unfinished, unformed character of the young man or young woman.
Those behind me have probably in the main settled this question.
Those who have passed into middle manhood and middle womanhood are
about what they shall always be, and there is but little left of
interest, as their characters are all developed.

“But to your young and your yet unformed natures, no man knows the
possibilities that lie before you in your hearts and intellects;
and, while you are working out the possibilities with that splendid
leisure that you need, you are to be most envied. I congratulate you
on your leisure. I commend you to treat it as your gold, as your
wealth, as your treasure, out of which you can draw all possible
treasures that can be laid down when you have your natures unfolded
and developed in the possibilities of the future.

“This place is too full of memories for me to trust myself to speak
upon, and I will not. But I draw again to-day, as I have for a
quarter of a century, life, evidence of strength, confidence and
affection from the people who gather in this place. I thank you for
the permission to see you and meet you and greet you as I have done
to-day.”

After this reunion with his old friends at Hiram, General Garfield was, on the morning of the 12th of June, driven to Mentor and Painesville. At both places he was received with great enthusiasm, and at the latter place, in response to the speech of welcome, made the following characteristic address:

“_Fellow-citizens and neighbors of Lake County_: I am exceedingly
glad to know that you care enough to come out on a hot day like
this, in the midst of your busy work, to congratulate me. I know it
comes from the hearts of as noble a people as lives on the earth.
[Cheers.] In my somewhat long public services there never has been a
time, in however great difficulties I may have been placed, that I
could not feel the strength that came from resting back upon the
people of the Nineteenth District. To know that they were behind me
with their intelligence, their critical judgment, their confidence
and their support was to make me strong in every thing I undertook
that was right. I have always felt your sharp, severe, and just
criticism, and my worthy, noble, supporting friends always did what
they believed was right. I know you have come here to-day not
altogether, indeed not nearly, for my sake, but for the sake of the
relations I am placed in to the larger constituency of the people of
the United States. It is not becoming in me to speak, nor shall I
speak, one word touching politics. I know you are here to-day
without regard to politics. I know you are all here as my neighbors
and my friends, and, as such, I greet you and thank you for this
candid and gracious welcome. [Cheers.] Thus far in my life I have
sought to do what I could according to my light. More than that I
could never hope to do. All of that I shall try to do, and if I can
continue to have the good opinion of my neighbors of this district,
it will be one of my greatest satisfactions. I thank you again,
fellow-citizens, for this cordial and generous welcome.” [Applause
and cheers.]

After some days of rest at his home, General Garfield repaired to Washington City, where he arrived on the 15th day of June. Everywhere along the route the railway stations and towns were crowded with people, anxious to catch a glimpse and hear a word from the probable President. Arriving at the Capital, he was, on the evening of the 16th, serenaded at his hotel, and, responding to the cheers of the crowd, appeared on the balcony and made the following happy speech:

“_Fellow-citizens_: While I have looked upon this great array, I
believe I have gotten a new idea of the majesty of the American
people. When I reflect that wherever you find sovereign power, every
reverent heart on this earth bows before it, and when I remember
that here for a hundred years we have denied the sovereignty of any
man, and in place of it we have asserted the sovereignty of all in
place of one, I see before me so vast a concourse that it is easy
for me to imagine that the rest of the American people are, gathered
here to-night, and if they were all here, every man would stand
uncovered, all in unsandaled feet in presence of the majesty of the
only sovereign power in this Government under Almighty God.
[Cheers.] And, therefore, to this great audience I pay the
respectful homage that in part belongs to the sovereignty of the
people. I thank you for this great and glorious demonstration. I am
not, for one moment, misled into believing that it refers to so poor
a thing as any one of our number. I know it means your reverence for
your Government, your reverence for its laws, your reverence for its
institutions, and your compliment to one who is placed for a moment
in relations to you of peculiar importance. For all these reasons I
thank you.

“I can not at this time utter a word on the subject of general
politics. I would not mar the cordiality of this welcome, to which
to some extent all are gathered, by any reference except to the
present moment and its significance; but I wish to say that a large
portion of this assemblage to-night are my comrades, late of the war
for the Union. For them I can speak with entire propriety, and can
say that these very streets heard the measured tread of your
disciplined feet, years ago, when the imperiled Republic needed your
hands and your hearts to save it, and you came back with your
numbers decimated; but those you left behind were immortal and
glorified heroes forever; and those you brought back came, carrying
under tattered banners and in bronze hands the ark of the covenant
of your Republic in safety out of the bloody baptism of the war
[cheers], and you brought it in safety to be saved forever by your
valor and the wisdom of your brethren who were at home; and by this
you were again added to the great civil army of the Republic. I
greet you, comrades and fellow-soldiers, and the great body of
distinguished citizens who are gathered here to-night, who are the
strong stay and support of the business, of the prosperity, of the
peace, of the civic ardor and glory of the Republic, and I thank you
for your welcome to-night. It was said in a welcome to one who came
to England to be a part of her glory—and all the nation spoke when
it was said:

“‘Normans and Saxons and Danes are we,
But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee.’

“And we say to-night, of all nations, of all the people, soldiers
and civilians, there is one name that welds us all into one. It is
the name of American citizen, under the union and under the glory of
the flag that led us to victory and to peace. [Applause.] For this
magnificent welcome I thank you with all there is in my heart.”

On the next evening after this address, General Garfield was given a reception and banquet, at which were present many of the most distinguished men of the nation. Then, after a brief stay at Washington, he returned to Mentor, hoping to enjoy a respite from the excitements of the hour. But there was little hope of rest for one who by the will of the millions had thus been whirled into the blazing focus of expectation.

On the 3d of July the Soldiers’ Monument at Painesville, Ohio, was formally dedicated. General Garfield was present on the occasion, and after the principal oration, was called upon to speak. His address created great enthusiasm, especially among the veterans, who were gathered in great numbers to hear their old leader. General Garfield said:

“_Fellow-citizens_: I can not fail to respond on such an occasion,
in sight of such a monument to such a cause, sustained by such men.
[Applause and cheers.] While I have listened to what my friend has
said, two questions have been sweeping through my heart. One was,
‘What does the monument mean?’ and the other, ‘What will the
monument teach?’ Let me try and ask you for a moment, to help me
answer what does the monument mean. Oh! the monument means a world
of memories, a world of deeds, and a world of tears, and a world of
glories. You know, thousands know, what it is to offer up your life
to the country, and that is no small thing, as every soldier knows.
Let me put the question to you: For a moment suppose your country in
the awfully embodied form of majestic law, should stand above you
and say: ‘I want your life. Come up here on the platform and offer
it.’ How many would walk up before that majestic presence and say,
‘Here I am, take this life and use it for your great needs.’
[Applause.] And yet almost two millions of men made that answer
[applause], and a monument stands yonder to commemorate their
answer. That is one of its meanings. But, my friends, let me try you
a little further. To give up life is much, for it is to give up
wife, and home, and child, and ambition. But let me test you this
way further. Suppose this awfully majestic form should call out to
you, and say, ‘I ask you to give up health and drag yourself, not
dead, but half alive, through a miserable existence for long years,
until you perish and die in your crippled and hopeless condition. I
ask you to volunteer to do that,’ and it calls for a higher reach of
patriotism and self-sacrifice; but hundreds of thousands of you
soldiers did that. That is what the monument means also. But let me
ask you to go one step further. Suppose your country should say,
‘Come here, on this platform, and in my name, and for my sake,
consent to be idiots. [Voice—Hear, hear.] Consent that your very
brain and intellect shall be broken down into hopeless idiocy for my
sake.’ How many could be found to make that venture? And yet there
are thousands, and that with their eyes wide open to the horrible
consequences, obeyed that call.

“And let me tell how one hundred thousand of our soldiers were
prisoners of war, and to many of them when death was stalking near,
when famine was climbing up into their hearts, and idiocy was
threatening all that was left of their intellects, the gates of
their prison stood open every day, if they would quit, desert their
flag and enlist under the flag of the enemy; and out of one hundred
and eighty thousand not two per cent. ever received the liberation
from death, starvation and all that might come to them; but they
took all these horrors and all these sufferings in preference to
going back upon the flag of their country and the glory of its
truth. [Applause.] Great God! was ever such measure of patriotism
reached by any men on this earth before? [Applause.] That is what
your monument means. By the subtle chemistry that no man knows, all
the blood that was shed by our brethren, all the lives that were
devoted, all the grief that was felt, at last crystallized itself
into granite rendered immortal, the great truth for which they died
[applause], and it stands there to-day, and that is what your
monument means.

“Now, what does it teach? What will it teach? Why, I remember the
story of one of the old conquerors of Greece, who, when he had
traveled in his boyhood over the battle-fields where Miltiades had
won victories and set up trophies, returning said: ‘These trophies
of Miltiades will never let me sleep.’ Why? Something had taught him
from the chiseled stone a lesson that he could never forget; and,
fellow-citizens, that silent sentinel, that crowned granite column,
will look down upon the boys that will walk these streets for
generations to come, and will not let them sleep when their country
calls them. [Applause.] More than from the bugler on the field, from
his dead lips will go out a call that the children of Lake County
will hear after the grave has covered us and our immediate children.
That is the teaching of your monument. That is its lesson, and it is
the lesson of endurance for what we believe, and it is the lesson of
sacrifices for what we think—the lesson of heroism for what we mean
to sustain—and that lesson can not be lost to a people like this. It
is not a lesson of revenge; it is not a lesson of wrath; it is the
grand, sweet, broad lesson of the immortality of the truth that we
hope will soon cover, as the grand Shekinah of light and glory, all
parts of this Republic, from the lakes to the gulf. [Applause.] I
once entered a house in old Massachusetts, where, over its doors,
were two crossed swords. One was the sword carried by the
grandfather of its owner on the field of Bunker Hill, and the other
was the sword carried by the English grandsire of the wife, on the
same field, and on the other side of the conflict. Under those
crossed swords, in the restored harmony of domestic peace, lived a
happy, and contented, and free family, under the light of our
republican liberties. [Applause.] I trust the time is not far
distant when, under the crossed swords and the locked shields of
Americans North and South, our people shall sleep in peace, and rise
in liberty, love, and harmony under the union of our flag of the
Stars and Stripes.”

The next public utterance of General Garfield had been anxiously awaited. Until now he had not found time to return a formal answer to the committee, whose chairman had, on the evening of the 8th of June, informed him of his nomination for the Presidency. On the 12th of July, the General, from his home at Mentor, issued his letter of acceptance. It was a document of considerable length, touching upon most of the political questions of the day, and gave great satisfaction to his party throughout the Union. The letter was as follows:

“MENTOR, OHIO, July 10th, 1880.

“_Dear Sir_: On the evening of the 8th of June last I had the honor
to receive from you, in the presence of the committee of which you
were chairman, the official announcement that the Republican
National Convention at Chicago had that day nominated me for their
candidate for President of the United States. I accept the
nomination with gratitude for the confidence it implies and with a
deep sense of the responsibilities it imposes. I cordially indorse
the principles set forth in the platform adopted by the convention.
On nearly all the subjects of which it treats my opinions are on
record among the published proceedings of Congress. I venture,
however, to make special mention of some of the principal topics
which are likely to become subjects of discussion, without reviewing
the controversies which have been settled during the last twenty
years, and with no purpose or wish to revive the passions of the
late war.

“It should be said that while Republicans fully recognize and will
strenuously defend all the rights retained by the people and all the
rights reserved to the States, they reject the pernicious doctrine
of State supremacy, which so long crippled the functions of the
National Government and at one time brought the Union very near to
destruction. They insist that the United States is a nation, with
ample power of self-preservation; that its Constitution and the laws
made in pursuance thereof are the supreme law of the land; that the
right of the nation to determine the method by which its own
legislature shall be created can not be surrendered without
abdicating one of the fundamental powers of the Government; that the
national laws relating to the election of representatives in
Congress shall neither be violated nor evaded; that every elector
shall be permitted freely and without intimidation to cast his
lawful ballot at such election and have it honestly counted, and
that the potency of his vote shall not be destroyed by the
fraudulent vote of any other person. The best thoughts and energies
of our people should be directed to those great questions of
national well-being in which we all have a common interest. Such
efforts will soonest restore perfect peace to those who were lately
in arms against each other, for justice and good-will will outlast
passion; but it is certain that the wounds can not be completely
healed and the spirit of brotherhood can not fully pervade the whole
country until every one of our citizens, rich or poor, white or
black, is secure in the free and equal enjoyment of every civil and
political right guaranteed by the Constitution and the laws.
Wherever the enjoyment of this right is not assured, discontent will
prevail, immigration will cease, and the social and industrial
forces will continue to be disturbed by the migration of laborers
and the consequent diminution of prosperity. The National Government
should exercise all its constitutional authority to put an end to
these evils, for all the people and all the States are members of
one body; and no member can suffer without injury to all.

“The most serious evils which now afflict the South arise from the
fact that there is not such freedom and toleration of political
opinion and action that the minority party can exercise an effective
and wholesome restraint upon the party in power. Without such
restraint party rule becomes tyrannical and corrupt. The prosperity
which is made possible in the South, by its great advantages of soil
and climate, will never be realized until every voter can freely and
safely support any party he pleases. Next in importance to freedom
and justice is popular education, without which neither justice nor
freedom can be permanently maintained. Its interests are intrusted
to the States and the voluntary action of the people. Whatever help
the nation can justly afford should be generously given to aid the
States in supporting common schools; but it would be unjust to our
people and dangerous to our institutions to apply any portion of the
revenues of the nation or of the States to the support of sectarian
schools. The separation of the Church and the State in every thing
relating to taxation should be absolute.

“On the subject of national finances my views have been so
frequently and fully expressed that little is needed in the way of
additional statement. The public debt is now so well secured, and
the rate of annual interest has been so reduced by refunding, that
rigid economy in expenditures and the faithful application of our
surplus revenues to the payment of the principal of the debt, will
gradually but certainly free the people from its burdens, and close
with honor the financial chapter of the war. At the same time the
Government can provide for all its ordinary expenditures, and
discharge its sacred obligations to the soldiers of the Union and to
the widows and orphans of those who fell in its defense. The
resumption of specie payments, which the Republican party so
courageously and successfully accomplished, has removed from the
field of controversy many questions that long and seriously
disturbed the credit of the Government and the business of the
country. Our paper currency is now as national as the flag, and
resumption has not only made it everywhere equal to coin, but has
brought into use our store of gold and silver. The circulating
medium is more abundant than ever before, and we need only to
maintain the equality of all our dollars to insure to labor and
capital a measure of value from the use of which no one can suffer
loss. The great prosperity which the country is now enjoying should
not be endangered by any violent change or doubtful financial
experiments.

“In reference to our custom laws, a policy should be pursued which
will bring revenues to the Treasury, and will enable the labor and
capital employed in our great industries to compete fairly in our
own markets with the labor and capital of foreign producers. We
legislate for the people of the United States, not for the whole
world; and it is our glory that the American laborer is more
intelligent and better paid than his foreign competitor. Our country
can not be independent unless its people, with their abundant
natural resources, possess the requisite skill at any time to
clothe, arm, and equip themselves for war, and in time of peace to
produce all the necessary implements of labor. It was the manifest
intention of the founders of the Government to provide for the
common defense, not by standing armies alone, but by raising among
the people a greater army of artisans, whose intelligence and skill
should powerfully contribute to the safety and glory of the nation.

“Fortunately for the interests of commerce there is no longer any
formidable opposition to appropriations for the improvement of our
harbors and great navigable rivers, provided that the expenditures
for that purpose are strictly limited to works of national
importance. The Mississippi River, with its great tributaries, is of
such vital importance to so many millions of people that the safety
of its navigation requires exceptional consideration. In order to
secure to the nation the control of all its waters, President
Jefferson negotiated the purchase of a vast territory, extending
from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific Ocean. The wisdom of Congress
should be invoked to devise some plan by which that great river
shall cease to be a terror to those who dwell upon its banks, and by
which its shipping may safely carry the industrial products of
twenty-five millions of people.

“The interests of agriculture, which is the basis of all our
material prosperity, and in which seven-twelfths of our population
are engaged, as well as the interests of manufactures and commerce,
demand that the facilities for cheap transportation shall be
increased by the use of all our great water courses. The material
interests of this country, the traditions of its settlement and the
sentiment of our people, have led the Government to offer the widest
hospitality to immigrants who seek our shores for new and happier
homes, willing to share the burdens as well as the benefits of our
society, and intending that their posterity shall become an
undistinguishable part of our population. The recent movement of the
Chinese to our Pacific coast partakes but little of the qualities of
such an immigration, either in its purposes or its result. It is too
much like an importation to be welcomed without restriction; too
much like an invasion to be looked upon without solicitude. We can
not consent to allow any form of servile labor to be introduced
among us under the guise of immigration. Recognizing the gravity of
this subject, the present administration, supported by Congress, has
sent to China a commission of distinguished citizens for the purpose
of securing such a modification of the existing treaty as will
prevent the evils likely to arise from the present situation. It is
confidently believed that these diplomatic negotiations will be
successful without the loss of that commercial intercourse between
the two great powers which promises a great increase of reciprocal
trade and the enlargement of our markets. Should these efforts fail,
it will be the duty of Congress to mitigate the evils already felt,
and prevent their increase by such restrictions as, without violence
or injustice, will place upon a sure foundation the peace of our
communities and the freedom and dignity of labor.

“The appointment of citizens to the various executive and judicial
offices of the Government is, perhaps, the most difficult of all
duties which the Constitution has imposed upon the Executive. The
convention wisely demands that Congress shall coöperate with the
Executive Department in placing the civil service on a better basis.
Experience has proved that, with our frequent changes of
administration, no system of reform can be made effective and
permanent without the aid of legislation. Appointments to the
military and naval service are so regulated by law and custom, as to
leave but little ground of complaint. It may not be wise to make
similar regulations by law for the civil service, but, without
invading the authority or necessary discretion of the Executive,
Congress should devise a method that will determine the tenure of
office, and greatly reduce the uncertainty which makes that service
so uncertain and unsatisfactory. Without depriving any officer of
his rights as a citizen, the Government should require him to
discharge all his official duties with intelligence, efficiency, and
faithfulness. To select wisely from our vast population those who
are best fitted for the many offices to be filled, requires an
acquaintance far beyond the range of any one man. The Executive
should, therefore, seek and receive the information and assistance
of those whose knowledge of the communities in which the duties are
to be performed, best qualifies them to aid in making the wisest
choice. The doctrines announced by the Chicago Convention are not
the temporary devices of a party to attract votes and carry an
election. They are deliberate convictions, resulting from a careful
study of the spirit of our institutions, the events of our history,
and the best impulses of our people. In my judgment, these
principles should control the legislation and administration of the
Government. In any event, they will guide my conduct until
experience points out a better way. If elected, it will be my
purpose to enforce strict obedience to the Constitution and the
laws, and to promote as best I may the interest and honor of the
whole country, relying for support upon the wisdom of Congress, the
intelligence and patriotism of the people, and the favor of God.

“With great respect, I am very truly yours,

“J. A. GARFIELD.

“To Hon. GEO. F. HOAR, Chairman of the Committee.”

The battle was now fairly on. The Democracy had, on the 23d day of June, in convention at Cincinnati, nominated as their standard-bearer the distinguished and popular soldier, Major-General Winfield S. Hancock. This nomination was received by the General’s party with as much satisfaction and enthusiasm as that of General Garfield had been by the Republicans. Meanwhile, General James B. Weaver, of Iowa, had been chosen to make the race by the National party, in a convention held in Chicago, on the 9th of June. So that there were presented for the suffrages of the people three eminent soldiers—all men of large abilities, undoubted patriotism, and thorough soundness of character. It was evident, however, from the opening of the campaign, that the contest was narrowed to Generals Garfield and Hancock, with the chances in favor of the former; and as the public mind became warmed up to the pitch of battle, the chances of Garfield were augmented by almost every incident of the fight. The platforms of the two parties had both been made with a view to political advantage rather than to uphold any distinctive principles. So the fight raged backwards along the line of the history and traditions of the two parties rather than forward along the line of the living political issues of the present and the future. In a modified form the old questions of the war were revived and paraded. A delegate in the Cincinnati Convention, allowing his zeal to run away with his sense, had pledged a “Solid South” to the support of General Hancock. This sectional utterance was a spark dropped among the old war memories of the Union soldiers; and the politicians were quick to fan the flame by suggesting that “a Solid South” ought to be confronted by “a Solid North.” This line of argument, of course, meant ruin to the Democracy. The Republican leaders virtually abandoned the Southern States, and concentrated all their efforts upon the doubtful States of the Northern border. Indiana became a critical battle-field; and here the political fight was waged with the greatest spirit. Having a gubernatorial election in October, it was foreseen that to carry this doubtful State would be well nigh decisive of the contest, and to this end the best talent of both parties was hurried into her borders. While these great movements were taking place, General Garfield remained, for the most part, at his quiet home at Mentor. On the 3d of August he attended the dedication ceremonies of a soldiers’ monument at Geneva, Ohio. More than ten thousand people were in attendance. After the principal address of the day had been delivered, General Garfield was introduced, and spoke as follows:

“_Fellow-citizens, Ladies and Gentlemen_: These gentlemen had no
right to print on a paper here that I was to make a speech, for the
types should always tell the truth. [A voice—They did it this time.]
They have not done it in this case; but I can not look out upon an
audience in Ashtabula County, recognizing so many old faces and old
friends, without at least making my bow to them, and saying
‘good-bye’ before I go. I can not either hear such a speech as that
to which I have just listened without thanking the man who made it
[applause] and the people who enabled him to make it [applause], for
after all no man can make a speech alone. It is the great human
power that strikes up from a thousand hearts that acts upon him and
makes the speech. [Applause.] It originates with those outside of
him, if he makes one at all, and every man that has stood on this
platform to-day has had a speech made out of him by you and by what
is yonder on your square. That’s the way speeches are made, and if I
had time to stay long enough, these forces with you might make one
out of me. [Applause.] Ideas are the only things in the universe
really immortal. Some people think that soldiers are chiefly
renowned for courage. That is one of the cheapest and commonest
qualities; we share it with the brutes. I can find you dogs and
bears and lions that will fight, and fight to the death, and will
tear each other. Do you call that warfare? Let me tell you the
difference. They are as courageous as any of these soldiers, if mere
brute courage is what you are after. The difference between them and
us is this: Tigers never hold reunions [laughter] to celebrate their
victories. When they have eaten the creature they have killed, that
is the only reunion they have ever held. [Laughter.] Wild beasts
never build monuments over their slain comrades. Why? Because there
are no ideas behind their warfares. Our race has ideas, and because
ideas are immortal, if they be true, we build monuments to them. We
hold reunions not for the dead, for there is nothing on all the
earth that you and I can do for the dead. They are past our help and
past our praise. We can not add more glory, and we can give them no
immortality. They do not need us, but forever and forever more we
need them. [Applause.] The glory that trails in the clouds behind
them after their sun has set, falls with its benediction upon us who
are left [applause], and it is to commemorate the immortality of the
ideas for which they fought, that you assemble to-day and dedicate
your monument, that points up toward God who leads them in the glory
of the great world beyond. Around these ideas, under the leadership
of these ideas, we assemble to-day, reverently to follow, reverently
to acknowledge the glory they achieved and the benediction they left
behind them. That is the meaning of an assembly like this, and to
join in it, to meet you, my old neighbors and constituents, to share
with you the memories that we have heard rehearsed and the
inspiration that this day points to, that this monument celebrates,
is to me a joy, and for it I am grateful to you.”

Immediately after this address at Geneva, General Garfield took his departure for New York, where it had been determined to hold a conference of the principal Republican leaders, relative to the conduct of the pending campaign. The standard-bearer participated in the council of his friends, adding not a little by his presence and unflagging spirits to the zeal and enthusiasm of those upon whose efforts so much depended. On the 7th he left the city for Lake Chautauqua, where he had decided to spend a day at the great Sunday-school encampment and other lakeside resorts. He was received with the greatest good-will by the thousands assembled at Jamestown and Chautauqua; and on the eve of his departure was induced, in response to salutations and cheers, to make the following brief address:

“_Fellow-citizens_: You have done so much to me since I arrived on
this shore, that I am quite unable to tell what sort of man I am
this morning. [Laughter.] I had never been here, and really did not
know what you were doing. Last evening I asked Mr. Vincent, rather
brusquely, to tell me what Chautauqua means—what your work here
means—and he filled me so full of your ideas that I have not yet
assimilated it so as to be quite sure what manner of man I am since
I got hold of it. But this I see, you are struggling with one of the
two great problems of civilization. The first one is a very old
question—‘How shall we get leisure?’ That is the object of every
hammer stroke, of every blow that labor has struck since the
foundation of the world. [Applause.] The fight for bread is a great
primal fight, and it is so absorbing a struggle that until one
conquers to some extent he can have no leisure. We may divide the
struggles of the human race into two chapters: First, the fight to
get leisure, and, second, what to do with our leisure when we have
won it. It looks to me that Chautauqua has solved the second
problem. [Applause.] Like all blessings, leisure is a very bad thing
unless it is well used. The man with a fortune ready made, and with
leisure on his hands, is likely to get sick of the world, sick of
himself, tired of life, and to become a useless, wasted man. What
shall you do with your leisure? I understand Chautauqua is trying to
develop new energies, largeness of mind and culture in a better
sense, ‘with the varnish scratched off,’ as our friend, Dr.
Kirkwood, says. [Applause.] We are getting over the fashion of
painting and varnishing our native woods. We are getting down to the
real grain, and finding whatever is best and most beautiful in it,
and if Chautauqua is helping to develop in our people the native
stuff that is in them rather than to give them varnish and gewgaws
of culture, it is doing well. Chautauqua, therefore, has filled me
with thought, and, in addition to that, you have filled me with
gratitude for your kindness and for this great spontaneous greeting
in early morning, earlier than men of leisure get up. [Laughter.]
Some of these gentlemen of the press around me looked distressed at
the early rising by which you have compelled our whole party to look
at the early sun. [Laughter.] This greeting on the lake slope toward
the sun is very precious to me, and I thank you all. This is a mixed
audience of citizens, and I will not offend the proprieties of the
occasion by discussing controverted questions or entering upon any
political discussion. I look in the faces of men of all shades of
opinion, but whatever our party affiliation, I trust there is in all
this audience that love of our beneficent institutions which makes
it possible for free labor to earn leisure, and for our institutions
to make that leisure worth something [applause]—our Union and our
institutions, under the blessing of equal laws, equal to all colors
and all conditions, an open career for every man, however humble, to
rise to whatever place the power of a strong arm, the strength of a
clear head, and the aspirations of a pure heart can do to lift him.
That prospect ought to inspire every young man in this vast
audience. [Applause.] I heard yesterday and last night the songs of
those who were lately redeemed from slavery, and I felt that there,
too, was one of the great triumphs of the Republic. [Applause.] I
believe in the efficiency of the forces that come down from the ages
behind us, and I wondered if the tropical sun had not distilled its
sweetness, and if the sorrow of centuries of slavery had not
distilled its sadness into verses, which were touching, sweet
verses, to sing the songs of liberty as they sing them wherever they
go. [Applause.]

“I thank that choir for the lesson they have taught me here, and
now, fellow-citizens, thanking you all, good-bye.” [Applause.]

On the 9th of the month General Garfield returned to his home, where he again sought a respite from the uproar and tumult of publicity which followed him everywhere. On the 25th of August, a reunion of his old regiment, the Forty-second Ohio, was held at Ashland, and the General could but accept an invitation to share the occasion with his former comrades in arms. The old soldiers passed a resolution, declaring it an honor that their former Colonel had become the conspicuous man of the nation, and commending him to the world as a model of all soldierly virtues. He was elected President of the Regimental Association for the ensuing year, and was thereupon called out for an address. The General spoke as follows:

“_Fellow-citizens_: This is a family gathering, a military family,
for in war a regiment is to the army what a family is to the whole
civilized community. [Here a portion of the platform fell.] A
military reunion without some excitement and some accident would be
altogether too monotonous and tame to be interesting, and in this
good-natured audience we can have a good many accidents like that
and still keep quiet and be happy.

“I said this is a family reunion, an assembly of the Forty-second
military family, and it is well for us to meet here. Nineteen years
ago I met a crowd of earnest citizens in that court-room above
stairs. Your bell was rung, your people came out. The teacher of
your schools was among them. The boys of the school were there, and
after we had talked together a little while, about our country and
its imperiled flag, the teacher of the schools offered himself to
his country, and twenty of his boys with him. They never went back
into the school-house again; but in the dark days of November, 1861,
they and enough Ashland County boys to make one hundred went down
with me to Columbus to join another one hundred that had gone before
them from Ashland County, and these two hundred of your children
stood in the center of our military family and bore these old
banners that you see tattered before you to-day. One of them was
given to our family by the ladies of Ashland, and Company C, from
Ashland, carried it well. It was riddled by bullets and torn by
underbrush. Flapped by the winds of rebellion, it came back
tattered, as you see, but with never a stain upon its folds, and
never a touch of dishonor upon it anywhere; and the other of these
banners was given us by the special friends of Company A, in my old
town of Hiram, the student company from the heart of the Western
Reserve, and it also shared like its fellows, the fate, and came
home covered with the glory of the conflict.

“We were a family, I say again, and we did not let partisan politics
disturb us then, and we do not let partisanship enter our circle
here to-day.

“We did not quarrel about controversies outside of our great work.
We agreed to be brethren for the Union, under the flag, against all
its enemies everywhere, and brothers to all men who stood with us
under the flag to fight for the Union, whatever their color of skin,
whatever their previous politics, whatever their religion. In that
spirit we went out; in that spirit we returned; and we are glad to
be in Ashland to-day, for it is one of the homes of our regiment,
where we were welcomed in the beginning and have always been welcome
since. We are grateful for the welcome tendered us to-day by this
great assembly of our old neighbors and friends of Ashland County.

“Now, fellow-citizens, a regiment like a family has the right to be
a little clannish and exclusive. It does not deny the right of any
other family to the same privileges, but it holds the members of its
own family a little nearer and a little dearer than any other family
in the world. And so the Forty-second Regiment has always been a
band of brothers. I do not this day know a Forty-second man in the
world who hates another Forty-second man. There never was a serious
quarrel inside the regiment. There was never a serious disagreement
between its officers. The worst thing I have ever heard said against
it is that all its three field officers came home alive. And they
are all here on this stand to-day. It was, perhaps, a little against
us that no one of us had the honor to get killed or seriously
crippled; but we hold that it was not altogether our fault, and we
trust that some day or other you will have forgiven us, if you have
not to-day, for being alive and all here together.