eria into the
polished cynicism of a diplomat who had been known to deny that he was
ever entirely serious--he scoffed at Greeley's fears. If the South had
not voted lack of confidence in the Breckinridge crowd, what had it
voted? If the Breckinridge leaders weren't maneuvering to save their
faces, what could they be accused of doing? If Seward, the Republican
man of genius, couldn't see through all that, couldn't devise a way
to help them save their faces, what was the use in being a brilliant
politician?

Jauntily self-complacent, as confident of himself as if Rome were
burning and he the garlanded fiddler, Seward braced himself for the task
of recreating the Union.

But there was an obstacle in his path. It was Lincoln. Of course, it
was folly to propose a scheme which the incoming President would not
sustain. Lincoln and Seward must come to an understanding. To bring that
about Seward despatched a personal legate to Springfield. Thurlow Weed,
editor, man of the world, political wire-puller beyond compare, Seward's
devoted henchman, was the legate. One of the great events of American
history was the conversation between Weed and Lincoln in December, 1860.
By a rare propriety of dramatic effect, it occurred probably, on the
very day South Carolina brought to an end its campaign of menace and
adopted its Ordinance of Secession, December twentieth.(1)

Weed had brought to Springfield a definite proposal. The Crittenden
compromise was being hotly discussed in Congress and throughout the
country. All the Northern advocates of conciliation were eager to put it
through. There was some ground to believe that the Southern machine at
Washington would accept it. If Lincoln would agree, Seward would make it
the basis of his policy.

This Compromise would have restored the old line of the Missouri
Compromise and would have placed it under the protection of a
constitutional amendment. This, together with a guarantee against
congressional interference with slavery in the States where it existed,
a guarantee the Republicans had already offered, seemed to Seward, to
Weed, to Greeley, to the bulk of the party, a satisfactory means of
preserving the Union. What was it but a falling back on the original
policy of the party, the undoing of those measures of 1854 which had
called the party into being? Was it conceivable that Lincoln would
balk the wishes of the party by obstructing such a natural mode of
extrication? But that was wha