MY DEAR FRIEND:--I have received your letter of the 25th;
shall construe it as absolutely confidential, not intimating
even to any member of my family that I have heard from you;
and though you may not expect an answer, I hope you will not
construe one as unwarranted. I have had a great many letters
from all points of the compass to a similar effect, one or
two of which I have answered frankly; but the great mass
are unanswered. I ought not to subject myself to the cheap
ridicule of declining what is not offered; but it is only fair
to the many really able men who rightfully aspire to the high
honor of being President of the United States to let them know
that I am not, and must not be construed as, a rival. In every
man's life there occurs an epoch when he must choose his
own career, and when he may not throw the responsibility,
or tamely place his destiny in the hands of friends. Mine
occurred in Louisiana when, in 1861, alone in the midst of a
people blinded by supposed wrongs, I resolved to stand by the
Union as long as a fragment of it survived to which to cling.
Since then, through faction, tempest, war, and peace, my
career has been all my family and friends could ask. We are
now in a good home of our choice, with reasonable provision
for old age, surrounded by kind and admiring friends, in a
community where Catholicism is held in respect and veneration,
and where my children will naturally grow up in contact
with an industrious and frugal people. You have known and
appreciated Mrs. Sherman from childhood, have also known each
and all the members of my family, and can understand, without
an explanation from me, how their thoughts and feelings should
and ought to influence my action; but I will not even throw
off on them the responsibility. I will not, in any event,
entertain or accept a nomination as a candidate for President
by the Chicago Republican convention, or any other convention,
for reasons personal to myself. I claim that the Civil War,
in which I simply did a man's fair share of work, so perfectly
accomplished peace, that military men have an absolute right
to rest, and to demand that the men who have been schooled in
the arts and practice of peace shall now do their work equally
well. Any senator can step from his chair at the Capitol into
the White House, and fulfil the office of President with more
skill and success than a Grant, Sherman or Sheridan, who were
soldiers by education and nature, who filled well their office
when the country was in danger, but were not schooled in
the practices by which civil communities are, and should be,
governed. I claim that our experience since 1865 demonstrates
the truth of this my proposition. Therefore I say that
"patriotism" does not demand of me what I construe as a
sacrifice of judgment, of inclination, and of self-interest.
I have my personal affairs in a state of absolute safety and
comfort. I owe no man a cent, have no expensive habits
or tastes, envy no man his wealth or power, [have] no
complications or indirect liabilities, and would account
myself a fool, a madman, an ass, to embark anew, at sixty-five
years of age, in a career that may, at any moment, [become]
tempest-tossed by the perfidy, the defalcation, the
dishonesty, or neglect of any one of a hundred thousand
subordinates utterly unknown to the President of the United
States, not to say the eternal worriment by a vast host of
impecunious friends and old military subordinates. Even as it
is, I am tortured by the charitable appeals of poor distressed
pensioners; but as President, these would be multiplied beyond
human endurance. I remember well the experience of Generals
Jackson, Harrison, Taylor, Grant, Hayes and Garfield, all
elected because of their military services, and am warned, not
encouraged, by their sad experiences. No--count me out. The
civilians of the United States should, and must, buffet with
this thankless office, and leave us old soldiers to enjoy the
peace we fought for, and think we earned.
With profound respect, your friend,