of malcontents?  And then some one thought of a mode for giving definite political value to Blair’s removal.  Who did it?  The anonymous author of the only biography of Chandler claims this doubtful honor for the great Jacobin.  Lincoln’s secretaries, including Colonel Stoddard who had charge of his correspondence, are ignorant on the subject.(5) It may well have been Chandler who negotiated a bargain with Fremont, if the story is to be trusted, which concerned Blair.  A long-standing, relentless quarrel separated these two.  That Fremont as a candidate was nobody had long been apparent; and yet it was worth while to get rid of him.  Chandler, or another, extracted a promise from Fremont that if Blair were removed, he would resign.  On the strength of this promise, a last appeal was made to Lincoln.  Such is the legend.  The known fact is that on September twenty-second Fremont withdrew his candidacy.  The next day Lincoln sent this note to Blair: 

“You have generously said to me more than once that whenever your resignation could be a relief to me, it was at my disposal.  The time has come.  You very well know that this proceeds from no dissatisfaction of mine, with you personally or officially.  Your uniform kindness has been unsurpassed by that of any friend."(6)

No incident displays more clearly the hold which Lincoln had acquired on the confidence and the affection of his immediate associates.  Blair at once tendered his resignation:  “I can not take leave of you,” said he, “without renewing the expression of my gratitude for the uniform kindness which has marked your course with regard to myself."(7) That he was not perfunctory, that his great chief had acquired over him an ascendency which was superior to any strain, was demonstrated a few days later in New York.  On the twenty-seventh, Cooper Institute was filled with an enthusiastic Lincoln meeting.  Blair was a speaker.  He was received with loud cheers and took occasion to touch upon his relations with the President.  “I retired,” said he, “on the recommendation of my own father.  My father has passed that period of life when its honors or its rewards, or its glories have any charm for him.  He looks backward only, and forward only, to the grandeur of this nation and the happiness of this great people who have grown up under the prosperous condition of the Union; and he would not permit a son of his to stand in the way of the glorious and patriotic President who leads us on to success and to the final triumph that is in store for us."(8)

It was characteristic of this ultimate Lincoln that he offered no explanations, even in terminating the career of a minister; that he gave no confidences.  Gently inexorable, he imposed his will in apparent unconsciousness that it might be questioned.  Along with his overmastering kindness, he had something of the objectivity of a natural force.  It was the mood attained by a few extraordinary men who have reached a point where, without becoming egoists, they no longer distinguish between themselves and circumstance; the mood of those creative artists who have lost themselves, in the strange way which the dreamers have, who have also found themselves.