BEFORE the CHAPTER XXV. 1880. end of President Grant's second term, his name was mentioned by some of his admirers in connection with a candidacy for a third term. Although there was nothing to prohibit this in the Constitution, nor in any law, it was deemed sufficiently contrary to established custom to awaken hostility to Grant, which, in the heat of narrow partisanship, took a personal turn. In order to crush the thought in its infancy-ambition for a third term he had not-the word "Cæsarism" was invented, and he was pictured in the opposing party journals as one desirous of perpetuating his political ascendancy indefinitely. Had this unjust imputation been confined to political opponents exclusively, it would have attracted but little attention. But it unfortunately found encouragement among some of the more ambitious, or less scrupulous, men and papers of his own party, and was wrought up till it became quite a sentiment. It had never been his custom to reply to attack. His works were his vindication. And as to preferment of any kind, no man could say that he had ever solicited position in his life, ever held one except in obedience to a most pronounced public will, or ever done aught while in one that even savored of disregard of law or popular sentiment. While this should have been sufficient answer at the time to every imputation, he departed from his customary silence sufficiently long to set himself straight before the country in a letter, in which he said: "Now for the third term. I do not want it any more than I did the first. I would not write or utter a word to change the will of the people in expressing and having their choice. The question of the number of terms allowed to any one executive can only come up fairly in the shape of a proposition to amend the Constitution-a shape in which all political parties can participate, fixing the length of time or the number of terms for which any one person shall be eligible for the office of President. Until such an amendment is adopted, the people cannot be restricted in their choice by resolution further than they are now restricted as to age, nativity, etc. "It may happen in the future history of the country, that to change an executive because he has been eight years in office, will prove unfortunate, if not disastrous. The idea that any man could elect himself President, or even renominate himself, is preposterous. It is a reflection upon the intelligence and patriotism of the people to suppose such a thing possible. Any man can destroy his chances for the office, but no man can force an election, or even a nomination. To recapitulate: I am not, nor have I ever been, a candidate for a renomination. I would not accept a nomination, if it were tendered, unless it should come under such circumstances as to make it an imperative duty-circumstances not likely to arise." The man who bore unmurmuringly and silently-except as his voice opened in the above letter-all the charges of a desire to perpetuate his power, withdrew from public life at the end of his term of office in the most quiet and unostentatious manner; not with a sigh of regret, as one having ambition, but glad of an opportunity to re-enter private station and his own modest home circle. Thus he returned to the bosom of the people, after serving their will in the highest capacities vouchsafed to man, and went seeking nothing, desiring nothing, so much as the privileges of a retirement that could only be disturbed by a call as loud and imperative as that which made him a leader of armies and holder of the destinies of a free and united people. While in this, as in all attacks upon him, time and a better knowledge of the man came to his vindication, and even turned invidious partisan remark into praise, the political events which led to the campaign of 1880 again involved him. He was less than ever an aspirant for nomination, and more than ever a passive instrument in the hands of his friends and admirers. Sift fact and sentiment as closely as the historian may, there does not appear a single trace of effort or inclination on his part for a nomination in that year. Yet circumstances, over which he had no control, and with which he had no identity, were given such a turn as to reopen the stale cry of "Cæsarism.” There were factional differences inside of his party. There was much unrest over the mild and indecisive policy of President Hayes. There was growing apprehension of a solid political South which should overshadow the more populous North, as in the old slave days. There was conviction that this supremacy did not, or would not, rest on a full and free expression of the sentiments of all the people there. There was hope that it was not too late to introduce there a divided sentiment, and secure a free play of individual and party rights, such as prevailed elsewhere. Earnest had been given that the time was ripe for a break in the closely-riveted partyism of the section, provided a man in whom all could have confidence, who was sterling in character, strong in will, consistent in conviction, kind and considerate in policy, could become a leader. Even promise had been passed that more than one of the Southern States would swing from their old political moorings under the leadership of distinguished citizens, if some one could be raised to power who could inspire respect, and whose terms of political co-operation would not prove humiliating. In so far as all these existing facts were shaping sentiment, or were reflexive of sentiment, it was perhaps unfortunate for Grant that the popular eye intuitively took him in when it scanned the political horizon for a Presidential candidate who would fill every requisite. Though a term had intervened, still the anti-third-term spirit existed, and it was now used even more freely, if not more rancorously, than before, because the contention was inside of the Republican party, and family quarrels are never free from bitterness and excitement. Again, a candidate of his weight would be a most disturbing element in a party convention. It would unsettle the drift of things political, overturn calculations, destroy the chances of aspirants, defeat ambitions. In many senses it would be a new departure in party proceedings, if not in party policy. Hence, we say it was perhaps unfortunate for Grant that, while as to general needs he was the ideal candidate, as to strict party discipline and tradition, he was a subject of discord, though by no movement or expression of his own. This is as things stood in the mists of the morning, prior to the real campaign of 1880. But as the campaign progressed, and matters and men became more involved, acerbities quickened on the one hand, while on the other the impression grew that no one but a man of wellknown record and firm administrative capacity could meet the rising contingency without risk. There were States which some shrewd men regarded as pivotal, yet unsafe for any of the known aspirants for Presidential honors. One of theseNew York-was held to be doubtful for any man the Republicans could name, except General Grant. Here was another cause for a crystalization of thought about him, which, so far as he was concerned, was simply a fate. As party work began to centralize in the respective States and communities, and local leaders to place themselves at the heads of followings, each using his choice for candidate as a Shibboleth, and his favorite policy as argument, it was |