r," replied the quick-witted Celt, "O'im payin' ye a
compliment in votin' for your brother-in-law."[1197]
[Footnote 1197: A.R. Conkling, _Life of Roscoe Conkling_, p. 313.]
Near the close of the campaign, in accordance with the habit of many
years, William H. Seward returned to Auburn to speak to his neighbors
and townsmen. No one then realised that this was to be his last
political meeting, or that before another presidential election
occurred he would have entered upon his long sleep on Fort Hill. But
the hall was as full as if it had been so advertised. He was neither
an old man, being sixty-seven, nor materially changed in appearance.
Perhaps his face was a trifle thinner, his hair lighter, and his jaw
more prominent, but his mental equipment survived as in the olden days
when the splendid diction hit the tone and temper of the anti-slavery
hosts. His speech, however, showed neither the spirit that nerved him
in the earlier time, nor the resources that formerly sustained him in
vigorous and persuasive argument. He spoke rather in a vein of
extenuation and reminiscence, as one whose work, judged by its
beginnings, had perhaps ended unsatisfactorily as well as illogically,
and for which there was no sufficient reason.[1198]
[Footnote 1198: _Seward's Works_, Vol. 5, pp. 550-556.]
This speech had the effect of widening the breach between him and his
old associates, who bitterly resented his apparent indifference in the
great contest, while men of a younger generation, looking at him with
wonder and interest, found it hard to realise that he had been one of
the most conspicuous and energetic figures in political life. How
complete was the loss of his political influence is naively
illustrated by Andrew D. White. "Mr. Cornell and I were arranging a
programme for the approaching annual commencement when I suggested Mr.
Seward for the main address. Mr. Cornell had been one of Mr. Seward's
lifelong supporters, but he received this proposal coldly, pondered it
for a few moments silently, and then said dryly: 'Perhaps you are
right, but if you call him you will show to our students the deadest
man that ain't buried in the State of New York.'"[1199]
[Footnote 1199: _Autobiography_, Vol. 1, p. 151.]
Samuel J. Tilden voiced the supreme ante-election confidence of the
Democrats. "Speaking from an experience of more than thirty years in
political observation and political action," he said, "I do not
hesitate to say that
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