the small town, who marches up the centre aisle on public occasions With creaking shoes and a wooden smile, and takes his seat with a backward, all-embracing glance.[1]
Such a person — lean, stiff, angular, with sharp gray eyes in a sad face, and long, grizzled hair brushed straight back behind his ears — makes no appeal to our sympathies, and for that reason is almost sure to be judged unfairly. For example, Polk has been called the "Mendacious"; but that is unjust. Many things are done in good society which, if thrown upon a screen before two thousand people, would be recognized instantly as mean; and the same is true in the world of affairs. As a lawyer and politician of Nashville, Polk no doubt resorted to devices of this kind, and he was not the man to realize the difference between a provincial town and a nation, and adapt himself to his new position. Compelled to act, he acted as he could; used the tactics with which he was familiar. In this manner he deceived men or permitted men to deceive themselves, and those accustomed to broader and larger and nobler methods thought he lied. In reality he was not Polk the Mendacious. but simply Polk the Mediocre.[2]
Yet he was mediocre only as compared with great standards. He could by no means be called insignificant. George Bancroft, secretary of the navy, has testified that he surpassed every member of his Cabinet in ability — not as high a distinction, perhaps, as might have been wished, but still high. His will — power was ample, and his output of mental energy large. In seriousness, industry and fidelity he left nothing to be desired. Though strongly inclined to be positive, he would listen patiently to others, discuss weighty matters at length, and if convinced would yield. He reflected long, and yet when the time for decision came, he did not shrink from taking a stand. He intended to do his duty as he, Polk, was able to see it, and spent himself liberally in that cause. He certainly was religious, and no doubt — though blind to the beauty of uprightness and unresponsive to the delicacy of honor — he fully believed that he was conscientious.[3]
To regard such a man, uninspired and uninspiring, as capable of playing the brilliant villain's role in a grand international tragedy, of dreaming the conqueror's dream and sacrificing his fellow-citizens on the altar of gory but gorgeous ambition,
