unmindful of the great services he has rendered. Not one of us, I am sure, is inclined to forget the deeds he did in the field for his country, and because we are not inclined to forget those deeds we cannot but deplore most sincerely that, after having contributed so much to the salvation of this Republic in war, he has done things so dangerous to republican institutions in peace.
The American people are enthusiastic admirers of war-like glory; but I should be loath to blame the American people for not permitting their enthusiasm to close their eyes to the short-comings of their heroes on other fields of action. In this respect they are by no means peculiar. The President, if his political acts meet with censure, is in distinguished company. I repeat, I would be the very last man on earth to detract from that just renown which he has earned; but there were men before him who had won great renown on the field of battle and then failed in the high responsibilities of civil life. No man in modern history has given so much glory to the arms of old England as the Duke of Wellington; and yet all that glory could not protect his windows against the stones thrown by multitudes of indignant citizens when, as a minister, he had forfeited the favor of the people. The vote of the House of Commons which drove him from power did not wipe out the glories of the Peninsular campaign nor dim the luster of Waterloo; but all the Peninsular glories, and the luster of Waterloo, were not strong enough to give success and popular approval to the Duke's civil administration. Our disapproval of a Presidential act of General Grant will not diminish our appreciation of the capture of Vicksburg and the victory of Richmond; but the laurels of Vicksburg and Richmond cannot make his acts now under discussion Constitutional, nor can they turn a Presidential blunder into an act of wisdom.
