The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1886-01-23
CONTINUED FROM FIRST PAGE.

have been in regard 10 horses. tie is
evidently very proud that at the aye Of
eight years he was able t. drive pair of
horses with a load of wood, aud at vali- f.
Gus subsequent periods he cannot refrain
from describing what success he had in
breaking colts and riding wild horses.
But of nothing else does he boast. lie
relates his services in Mexico, where lie
was in every battle without receiving
promotion and almost without notice;
then tells how he left the army because
he could not support his family on the
Pacific coast on his salary; aud how he
tried to support them by farming, as a
real estate agent, and in kec ping a store.
hardly notice it in the unbroken thread
of his story. The narrative goes on i'll
its direct, modest, unassaming way. ard
before we know it our author is i'll com
mand of eat armies, receiving the sur
render of other armies such. as had hth-
erSo surreudt red only to Napoleon, and
which neither Frederic nor Wellington
had ever been able to capture. We turn
back and try to see where the change
took place, at what point be ceased to be
one of millions, driving a load of wood
and selling leather, and became chief
and leader among men. But we cannot
detect it. He sees no change in himself,
and never did to the day of his death
Great events came to him ike small
ones: he tried to do his duty in both, but
he never looked at them in different
light. circumstances, he tells us,
always did shape my course different
from my plans. | bad no idea,
my self, of ever having any large com
maud, nor did | suppose vas equal t
one." But he had IA sup, rstition, 50 he
calls it, that Gin positions of great re-
sponsibility every one shonld do his duty
to the b' st of his ability when assigned
by competent authority, without a"ph-
cation OF the use of inf leucr To change
his position. S, lie let his lie take its
course, without attemp ing to direct ii
OF control it, but only to do well What
for the moment he had t. do. lie was
equally composed and reticent whether
Halleck relieved him from command on
the morrow of a great victory, OF Lin
coin promoted him aud placed him i'll a
larger field of esponsiblity. Wherever
he was he devoted bis whole thought to
the task in hand, without iutroSpection,
| without consciousness of self, without
| thought of how he would appear i'll his
| tory. He solved his problems without
remembering or thinking whether he
was acting according to military p"inci-
rience of ages; and yet he solved them
so we'll that mary of them, aud particu-
larly the Nicksburg campaign, are them
selves classic texts for the military stu
dent. 1t seems hard to believe that this
man whose life was SD utterly common
place, undistinguished and without
promise, up to the age OF nearly forty
years. should i'll a few years afterward
have achieved a career which makes it
necessary to compare him with Napoleon
and Frederic and Wellington. Nothing
more unlike than the early lives Of these
men and the early life Of Grant can pos
sibly be conceived: ard yet he handled
greater armies than they, to better pur-
pose, and in the end more successfully.
In the next century it is with them alone
that he will be compared, and quite pos
s.bly he will loom up grander figure
than any of them.
The literary quality of the book can
not be described in a word. Taat it
gives more accurate picture of the man
himself-and thereby all unconsciously
achieves its end and aim-thau anything
which has been previously written of
him, we think cannot be doubted. These
who reao without prejudice, either f, +
or against him, Grants report made in
the spring OF 1865 of the operations con-
Quoted under his control during the year
after he had been APP. ointed to the com
| VI al lIC WIZ ~ '''i -
amazed and charmed at his remarkable
breadth of vision and firm grasp of a
complex and intricate subject, 30 less
than by the singular directhess and H.
cidity Of his language. His Grip and
PLAN sentences showed the habit of
SHARP, well-defned thought. which once
existing was easily put on paper. Some
of his mess ages while President we've
also remarkable for their frrce aud clear
ness of statement. His literary reputa.
ton was thus to certain extent cstab-
lished. But on the OF CT hand it was
| we'll known that it was impossible for
him to make a speech, and in the art of
saying nothing gracefully he was a com
plete failure. In his book he has not
attempted to write of anything with
which he was not perfectly familiar, nor
has he made any effort to adorn his lam
guage. 1t is a plain, unvarushed tale
beginning with boy hcod and-in this
volume-ending with the surrender If
| Nicksburg. 1t was probably written
rapidly, from the fullness of knowledge.
and but little changed or corrected after
wards. In this way, without attempting
to do any fine writing, any more than he
attempted to make war according to the
rules, he las succeeded in achieving
literary style which is model of direct
ness, force and lucidity Tue story of
his early life is perhaps a little tedious.
| 1t is described so clearly that we have
no difficulty in picturing it to olr imagi-
nation in every detail; but after doing
| this there is SO little in the picture that
it seems hardly worth the effort But
beginning with the time when he pre-
in April, 1861, his life was so full Of in
terest that he cannot say TOO much about
it; and from that time on bis story il, one
of unflagGing intercst. 1t Gn'y remains
to add that there is not an nnkind word
in the book. To his friends at d foes lie
is equally generous, and for those Of
whom he had Gnce spoken haIshIy lac
now finds an excu-e. The book was
written, Or at least revised, IN the shadow
of death. when he felt the litlruess of
earthly contentious and wished t. be al
peace with all the world
J have been troubled with Catlrrh from hoy
hood and had considered rtrD.IIr