He had a good many angry political strifes. But he never
bore malice or seemed to keep angry over night. General Butler
once wrote him a letter pouring out on his head the invective
of which he was so conspicuous a master. Wilson brought the
letter into the office of a dear friend of mine in Boston
when I happened to be there, handed it to us to read, and
observed: "That is a cussed mean letter." I do not think
he ever spoke of it or scarcely thought of it again.
But his chief gift and faculty is one which I can hardly
think of words to describe fitly. The few of his old friends
who are left will understand what I mean. But I can hardly
make those who did not know him, or live in his time, comprehend
it. That was his rare and unequalled gift of gathering and
uttering the sentiment of the people. When new and doubtful
matters of pith and moment were to be dealt with, and after
a long apparent hesitation, and backing and filling, and what
people who did not know him thought trembling in the balance,
he would at last make up his mind, determine on his action,
and strike a blow which had in it not only the vigor of his
own arm, but the whole vigor and strength of the public sentiment
which he had gathered and which he represented.
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