* The nomination of Blaine was the passionately dramatic
scene of the day. Robert G. Ingersoll had been fixed upon to
present Blaine's name to the Convention, and, as the result
proved, a more effective champion could not have been
selected in the whole party conclave.
As the clerk, running down the list, reached Maine, an
extraordinary event happened. The applause and cheers which
had heretofore broken out in desultory patches of the
galleries and platform, broke in a simultaneous, thunderous
outburst from every part of the house.
Ingersoll moved out from the obscure corner and advanced to
the central stage. As he walked forward the thundering
cheers, sustained and swelling, never ceased. As he reached
the platform they took on an increased volume of sound, and
for ten minutes the surging fury of acclamation, the wild
waving of fans, hats, and handkerchiefs transformed the
scene from one of deliberation to that of a bedlam of
rapturous delirium. Ingersoll waited with unimpaired
serenity, until he should get a chance to be heard. * * *
And then began an appeal, impassioned, artful, brilliant,
and persuasive. * * *
Possessed of a fine figure, a face of winning, cordial
frankness, Ingersoll had half won his audience before he
spoke a word. It is the attestation of every man that heard
him, that so brilliant a master stroke was never uttered
before a political Convention. Its effect was indescribable.
The coolest-headed in the hall were stirred to the wildest
expression. The adversaries of Blaine, as well as his
friends, listened with unswerving, absorbed attention.
Curtis sat spell-bound, his eyes and mouth wide open, his
figure moving in unison to the tremendous periods that fell
in a measured, exquisitely graduated flow from the
Illinoisan's smiling lips. The matchless method and manner
of the man can never be imagined from the report in type. To
realize the prodigious force, the inexpressible power, the
irrestrainable fervor of the audience requires actual sight.
Words can do but meagre justice to the wizard power of this
extraordinary man. He swayed and moved and impelled and
restrained and worked in all ways with the mass before him
as if he possessed some key to the innermost mechanism that
moves the human heart, and when he finished, his fine, frank
face as calm as when he began, the overwrought thousands
sank back in an exhaustion of unspeakable wonder and
delight.--Chicago Times, June 16, 1876.