d be, and I
stated as much to my new colleagues. They offered objection which to
me appeared perverse if not childish. They did not like Reid, to begin
with. He was not a principal like the rest of us, but a subordinate.
Greeley was this, that and the other. He could never be relied upon
in any coherent practical plan of campaign. To talk about him as a
candidate was ridiculous.

I listened rather impatiently and finally I said: "Now, gentlemen, in
this movement we shall need the New York Tribune. If we admit Reid
we clinch it. You will all agree that Greeley has no chance of a
nomination, and so by taking him in we both eat our cake and have it."

On this view of the case Reid was invited to join us, and that very
night he sat with us at the St. Nicholas, where from night to
night until the end we convened and went over the performances and
developments of the day and concerted plans for the morrow.

As I recall these symposiums some amusing and some plaintive memories
rise before me.

The first serious business that engaged us was the killing of the boom
for Judge David Davis, of the Supreme Court, which was assuming definite
and formidable proportions. The preceding winter it had been incubating
at Washington under the ministration of some of the most astute
politicians of the time, mainly, however, Democratic members of
Congress.

A party of these had brought it to Cincinnati, opening headquarters well
provided with the requisite commissaries. Every delegate who came
in that could be reached was laid hold of and conducted to Davis'
headquarters.

We considered it flat burglary. It was a gross infringement upon our
copyrights. What business had the professional politicians with a great
reform movement? The influence and dignity of journalism were at stake.
The press was imperilled. We, its custodians, could brook no such
deflection, not to say defiance, from intermeddling office seekers,
especially from broken-down Democratic office seekers.

The inner sanctuary of our proceedings was a common drawing-room between
two bedchambers, occupied by Schurz and myself. Here we repaired after
supper to smoke the pipe of fraternity and reform, and to save the
country. What might be done to kill off "D. Davis," as we irreverently
called the eminent and learned jurist, the friend of Lincoln and the
only aspirant having a "bar'l"? That was the question. We addressed
ourselves to the task with earnest purpose, but charact