Why does Pennsylvania deliberate, why does she retire so often to consult her wishes?  There is laughter over it.  She changes her vote now.  Her favorite son, Cameron, gets two; forty-eight go to Lincoln.  What is the matter with Seward?  We had heard there was plenty of Seward money in Pennsylvania.  Yarnell had told me so.  Why doesn’t the machinery work?  Ohio falls off seven votes for Chase; Bates loses thirteen of his Missouri votes.  Vermont throws her whole vote to Lincoln, and the Stentor from the Illinois River bottoms raises a thunder of applause.  But Tom Hyer has now arrived and the Seward chorus is working.

The vote is announced:  Seward has 184-1/2; Lincoln 181; necessary to a choice, 233.  Seward is ruined.  Tom Hyer is down.  The band, the banners are for nothing.  All the Seward money is for nothing.  To be Governor, Senator, the leading man of the party for years, the great debater of the Senate, the author of the irrepressible conflict, the most dreaded enemy of the South—­all this goes up and out in a second like a poor sulphur match in a gale.  Seward is ruined.  A country lawyer from Springfield, Illinois, once a state legislator, once a Congressman, has killed him in two blows.  What has done it?  The irrepressible conflict.  It has crushed him before it crushed many more, old and young throughout the land.  He is too famous.  His words are too well known.  The house divided against itself is not so well known.  Lincoln is obscure.  He is a trim new champion of fifty-one years of age, ready after some fifteen or more years of resting and training, for a great fight.

Yet may not Greeley’s Bates still come in?  A horse not so swiftly running before now has a chance.  Where would Seward’s strength be thrown now that he cannot use it for himself?  Can he throw it to any one?  No!  For the third ballot gives Seward 180 and Lincoln 231-1/2.  But Seward is still holding on.  Ohio has been sticking to Chase.  The vote is not announced by the chair.  But hundreds of pencils have kept the score.  And just about as it is to be announced, Ohio throws four votes from Chase to Lincoln.  Lincoln is nominated!  The West of Douglas has won.

The convention goes mad.  The Illinois River roars like waters over a thousand dams.  Lake Michigan shouters make the rafters tremble.  A cannon is fired from the roof.  But no one inside hears it.  We go forth to the street.  Masses are yelling and crying with delight.  Old Abe from Illinois is nominated.  Chicago is delirious with joy.  From the Tremont House a hundred guns are fired.  Processions start; everywhere men are bearing rails.  Bands play.  Drink flows like sudden freshets.  Yarnell passes at a distance.  He is staring straight ahead, hurrying somewhere.  What is left for Seward, for his supporters?  Virginia had been bought, why didn’t she deliver?  Ohio was fingered for Seward.  Why didn’t Ohio yield?  Pennsylvania had taken quantities of Seward money.  Why this ingratitude?  What nominated Lincoln?  The Seward men have an answer.