fatal taint, then the American people must show that they have moral sense enough to reject him, and to reject him overwhelmingly. That is the way of salvation. There is no other.
It is vain for Mr. Blaine's friends to cry out that, however grave his offenses may have been, the people have already again and again condoned them. If it were so, it would be the highest time to reconsider before pronouncing the final verdict. But I deny it. It is not so. True, the legislature of Maine elected him a Senator, and the Republican National Convention nominated him as their candidate after his offenses had become known. So much the worse for the Maine legislature and for the Republican Convention. But they have only proved that some people have forgiven and forgotten his delinquencies. The question is, How many? The American people will pronounce their opinion on those offenses in November for the first time, and I trust it will be shown by an overwhelming majority that the American people have never forgotten them, and never will make the man guilty of them President of the United States.
In view of all this, of the glaring unfitness of the nomination, and of the fearful demoralization and disgrace the election of such a candidate by the American people would inflict upon this Republic, I do not hesitate to declare as my honest conviction that the consequences of Mr. Blaine's election, immediate and remote, would be far worse, infinitely more dangerous to our future as a Nation, than anything a Democratic Administration could under present circumstances bring with it. I mean exactly what I say. Take all the things which the most fanatical Republicans predict and the most nervous of them fear as to the possible results of Democratic success—a precipitate disturbance of our tariff policy, renewed troubles in the South, a clean sweep and a new
