His paramount ability was as a talker rather than as a fighter. He was an orator, and his oratory was of a kind that was exactly suited to his surroundings. No man could more readily adapt himself to the humor of his hearers. He knew precisely how to put himself on their level. I have seen him face an audience that was distinctly unfriendly, that would scarcely give him a hearing; and in less than half an hour every man in the crowd would be shouting his approval. He could go to his hearers if he could not bring them to him. I witnessed one of his performances in that line. He was a candidate for re-election to the United States Senate. There was one rival that he particularly feared. The man was the late General Thomas Ewing, then a resident of Kansas. At that particular time he was in the Army and the commandant of the St. Louis District in Missouri. Lane came to St. Louis and had a talk with the writer, freely admitting his dread of Ewing and asking for the _Missouri Democrat's_ support. Having a considerable admiration for Lane as well as a liking for the man, I promised him such assistance as I could reasonably give. It happened to be at the time when General Sterling Price, in making his last raid into Missouri, was threatening St. Louis with an army of nearly twenty thousand men, and there was no adequate opposing force at hand. Ewing, with barely a tenth as many troops, went to the front and heroically engaged the enemy. With no protection but the walls of a little mud fort he succeeded in repelling the attack of his powerful adversary. That timely action probably saved St. Louis. At this particular time it was arranged that there should be a meeting of the Republicans of St. Louis--it was in the midst of an exciting presidential campaign--at which Lane was to be the principal speaker. The meeting was held and Lane was addressing a large audience with great acceptance when the news of Ewing's achievement was received. It was then customary, when war intelligence arrived in the course of any political gathering, and sometimes of religious gatherings, to suspend all other proceedings until it had been announced and the audience had time enough to manifest its feeling on the subject.