The council is held. The chiefs and captains debate. McClellan clings to his plan of storming the deck From the water ways. He is cool now. He argues well. He has written Lincoln “From the brink of eternity” —A strained, high-flown, remarkable speech of a letter Of the sort so many have written and still will write⁠— Telling how well he has done in saving his army, No thanks to the Government, or to anything else But the pith of his fighting-men and his own craft. Lincoln reads and pockets the speech and thanks him. There had been craft and courage in that retreat And much was due to McClellan. The others speak. Some corps commanders agree and some demur, The Peninsula-stroke has failed and will fail again. Elbow-rubbing Halleck, newly-made chief of staff, Called “Old Brains,” for reasons that history Still tries to fathom, demurs. He urges withdrawal. Washington must be defended first and last⁠— Withdraw the army and put it in front of Washington. Lincoln listens to all as he tries to sift The mustardseed from the twenty barrels of chaff With patient hands. There has been a growth in the man,