Mr. Sumner. Very well. The letter, dated “At my Farm, September 7, 1861,” proceeds as follows: “The letter to which you refer is no doubt genuine. I have no recollection of writing it; but if Mr. Lincoln,” the bearer of the letter, “says I did, then I am entirely satisfied of the fact; for I am quite sure I would have given, as a matter of course, just such a letter of introduction to any friend who had asked it.” Thus, as late as the 7th of September, in the retirement of his farm, the original letter was approved and sanctioned. I would not exaggerate the effect of this second letter, as I need not exaggerate any point in this unhappy case; but, in view of the character of the original letter, the second letter can only be considered as marking either stolid hardihood of guilt or stolid insensibility to those rules of duty without which no man can be a good citizen; but either way, it only adds to the offensive character of the original transaction, and makes the duty of the Senate more plain.

I do not dwell on other topics of this second letter, because, though exhibiting bad temper and bad principles, they do not necessarily conduct to treason. The author is welcome to express “utter contempt for Abolitionism,” and also to declare his early and constant opposition to what he calls “the entire coercive policy of the Government.” Such declarations may render him an unsafe counsellor, but they do not stamp him as traitor. And it belongs to us, while purging this body of disloyalty in all its forms, to maintain at all hazards that freedom of speech which is herald and safeguard of all other freedom.

There is other testimony which aggravates the case still further. Not content with writing the traitorous letter, on the 1st of March, 1861, not content with approving and sanctioning this letter on the 7th of September, the author very recently rose in the place yet conceded to him in this Chamber, and deliberately said: “I have done nothing that I would not do over again under the same circumstances, and that I am not prepared to defend here or elsewhere.”[136] These words were uttered on this floor, in debate on another case which occurred as late as the 7th of January of this year. Thus was the original act of the 1st of March again affirmed, and the relations existing at that time with the Rebel chief proclaimed and vindicated; and all this in the American Senate, without a blush. Alas for that sensitive virtue which is the grace and strength alike of individuals and of communities! Surely it was wanting in him who could thus brave a just judgment: I fear it was wanting also in ourselves, when he was permitted to go without instant rebuke.

But I hear the suggestion, that at the date of this letter war was not yet flagrant, and that the author did not anticipate an actual conflict of arms. The first part of this suggestion is notoriously false. War had already begun, in the seizure of forts, and in the muster of Rebel armies; nay, more, in the very presence of the author, the gage of battle was flung down on this floor by Senators leaving to take part in the Rebellion. This has been unanswerably shown by the Senator from Minnesota [Mr. Wilkinson]. But the second part of the suggestion attributes to the author an ignorance of the well-known condition of things, inconsistent with his acknowledged intelligence. If the progress and development of the Rebellion had been in secret, if it had been masked by an impenetrable privacy, if it had been shrouded in congenial darkness, then this apology might be entitled to attention. But the Rebellion was open and complete; and on the 1st of March it was armed from head to foot, and in battle array against the National Government. Such was the actual condition of things, patent, certain, conspicuous to the whole country. And permit me to say that any apology now offered on pretext of ignorance shows simply a disposition to evade a just responsibility at any hazard of personal character.

I note the further suggestion, that the letter was written in carelessness, or in heedlessness, if you please, and without treasonable intent. Of course such a suggestion must be futile; for every man is presumed to know the natural consequences of his conduct. This is the rule of law, and the rule of patriotism. No man can be admitted to set up any carelessness or heedlessness as apology for treason. And I doubt not you will all agree with me, that a patriot Senator cannot be careless or heedless, when his country is in peril.

But I catch yet another suggestion, that this letter is trivial and insignificant to justify the condemnation of a Senator. Then, indeed, is disloyalty trivial; then is treason itself trivial. It is true, the letter is curt; it contains a single short paragraph only; but I have yet to learn that crime is measured by paragraphs or sentences, and that treason may not be found in a few words as well as in many. True, also, the letter is familiar in tone; but treason is a subtle wickedness, which sometimes stalks in state and sometimes shuffles in homely disguise. It is our duty to detect and to judge it, whatever form it takes.

Mr. President, let me not be unjust,—let me not lean even ungently against an offender; but you will pardon me, if I add, that against precise testimony, and in the face of unquestioned facts, I can find little in any present professions of loyalty to be accepted even in extenuation of the offence. The duty of the Senate depends upon former conduct, and not upon present professions. It is difficult to imagine any present professions which can restore the confidence essential to the usefulness of a Senator. It is in the hour of trial and doubt that men show themselves as they are, laying up for the future weal or woe,—and not afterwards, when all temptation to disloyalty is lost in the assured danger it must encounter, and when all positions have become fixed by events. Nor do I forget that mere professions have too often been a cover for falsehood. I refer again to the story of Benedict Arnold. After making his escape from the fort which he was about to betray, and finding shelter on board the British frigate, the Vulture, then swimming in the North River, he addressed a letter to General Washington, which begins as follows.

Perhaps these very words might now be repeated by the person whose seat is in question. He may not fancy being classed with Benedict Arnold; but the professions of that fugitive traitor are identical with the professions to which we have listened on this floor. There is still another letter to General Washington from the same quarter, only a few days later, that is equally suggestive. Arnold protests against the arrest and impending execution of Major André, who, he says, acted under his directions, and his promise of protection; and he adds, “As commanding officer in the department, I had an undoubted right to transact all these matters,”[138]—precisely as the person whose seat is in question avers in letter and debate that he had undoubted right to open that traitorous correspondence with the Chief of the Rebellion. But I proceed no further with this parallel.

Sir, if the present question were to be decided on grounds of sympathy, it would be pleasant to record our names so as to give the least personal pain. But we should act weakly and ignobly, if on any such ground we failed in the double duty now so urgent,—first, to the Senate, of which we are members, and next, to that country which has a right to our truest and most unhesitating devotion. If there be among us any person still enjoying the confidential trusts, legislative, diplomatic, and executive, of this Chamber, who, since Rebellion hoisted its flag and pointed its cannon, has failed in that loyalty which is an inviolable obligation,—even though his offence may not have the deepest dye of treason,—he is unworthy of a seat in the Senate; and be assured, Sir, that our country, which knows so well how to pardon all that is pardonable, expects that no such person, whatever his present professions, shall be recognized any longer as Senator.

Do not hesitate, then. The case is clear, and impartial history will so record it. No argument, no apology, no extenuation can remove or mitigate its requirements. There is a courage which belongs to this peaceful Chamber as much as to the battle-field, and now is the occasion for it. Above all, let no false tenderness substitute sympathy for judgment; and remember well, that, while casting out a faithless Senator, you will elevate the Senate and inspire the country.

Mr. President,—The Senator from Indiana [Mr. Bright], in the speech he has just made, referred to his personal relations with myself, and intimated, if he did not charge, that there had been some personal question or difference between us. Sir,——

Mr. Sumner. Excuse me.

Mr. Sumner. Let me finish. Sir, that is not the fact. Since I have been a member of this body, now more than ten years, it has been my fortune to mix in the debates on important public questions. On these occasions I have encountered, as the record shows, the opposition of that Senator, and of his constant associates in this body, all of them now in open rebellion. With the Senator and his constant associates I never had personal question or difference. Therefore, when the Senator asserts any such thing, or suggests it, he goes entirely beyond the record, and I could not allow the debate to close to-night without interposing my positive denial.

Sir, I have approached this painful question free from all personal prejudice. I have no feeling against the Senator. There has been nothing in our past relations to turn the scales by a feather’s weight.

Mr. President,—This debate is about to close; but before the vote is taken I wish briefly to review it, and to show again that there is but one conclusion which can truly satisfy the Senate or the country. If your last judgment in this case were not of incalculable importance both for the Senate and the country, helping to elevate the one and to inspire the other, I should not venture again to claim your attention. Such a precedent, so fruitful in good influences, should be completely commended and vindicated, that it may remain forever a commanding example.

Among all who have spoken, we naturally yield precedence on this occasion to the Senator from Indiana [Mr. Bright]. His speech was not long, but it afforded ample ground for regret, if not for condemnation. It showed offensively the same spirit which is found in the original letter; nor did it suggest anything in apology, except that the bearer of the letter was his lifelong friend, and that, when writing the letter, he did not dream of war: in other words, an act of unquestionable disloyalty was put under the double cloak of lifelong friendship and professed ignorance. The real condition of things was not noticed, while he sought to serve a friend. Because the bearer of the letter was his lifelong friend, and because the Senator did not see war ahead, therefore he was justified in sending forth this lifelong friend on an errand of disloyalty, ay, of treason itself, and of making him the instrument of aid and comfort to an organized rebellion. Of course such an argument shows weakness, and not strength; and the very weakness out of which it sprung naturally became impassioned and unjust. If any personal feeling could disturb that perfect equanimity which with me, on this occasion, is a sentiment and a duty, I might complain of that vindictive tone which broke forth, not only in personal imputation, but also in menace that what I said on the case of the Senator I dared not say again here or elsewhere; but I make no complaint. It is sufficient for me that I spoke in the conscious discharge of duty, and that I know of nothing in the vindictive tone or in the menace of the Senator that can interfere with such duty, as I understand it. Therefore I put aside what he has said, whether of personal imputation, or of personal menace, or of argument; for they all leave him worse than if he had continued silent.

I put aside also the elaborate argument, lasting for more than a whole day, of the Senator from Kentucky [Mr. Davis], practically exalting Slavery above the Constitution, and, while life is sacrificed and property is taken, while great rights are trodden down and all human energies are enlisted in defence of our country, insisting that Slavery alone is too sacred to be touched. Sir, I put aside this argument, because it is utterly out of place and irrelevant; and I trust it is not my habit in debate to ramble from that straight line which is the shortest way to the desired point. There is a time to sow and a time to reap; and there will be a time to discuss the constitutional power of Congress to end this Rebellion, even if, in so doing, it is constrained to end Slavery itself.

I put aside, also, the suggestion of the Senator from New York [Mr. Harris], to the effect that the Senator from Indiana is now on trial, that our proceedings are judicial, and that the evidence before us is insufficient to satisfy the requirements of such a case. Surely this assumption proceeds on a mistake. The Senator from Indiana is not on trial, in the ordinary understanding of that term; nor are our proceedings judicial; nor is the evidence insufficient for the case. Under the Constitution, each House, with the concurrence of two thirds, may expel a member; but this large discretionary power is given simply for the protection of the body in the exercise of an honest and honorable self-defence. The Senate itself is on trial just as much as the Senator; and permit me to say that the Senate will condemn itself, if it allow any person to continue among its members who has forfeited that peculiar confidence in his loyalty which is essential to his usefulness as Senator. It is vain to say that the evidence is insufficient. Technically and judicially it may be so; but according to all legislative precedents and all the rules of common life it is obviously sufficient, for it is beyond all practical doubt. My friend from New York did not hesitate at this session to vote for the expulsion of Breckinridge, of Polk, and of Johnson, without one scrap of evidence that he would recognize as a judge on the bench. How can he require evidence now which he did not require then?

I put aside, also, the argument of the Senator from Pennsylvania [Mr. Cowan], so carefully and elaborately stated, to the effect that on the 1st of March, when the disloyal letter was written, there was no war actually existing between the Rebel States and the United States. Even if this assumption were correct, even if the United States were still hesitating what course to adopt, nothing is clearer than this: the Rebel States were in rebellion,—organized, armed, and offensive,—with the avowed purpose of overthrowing the National Government within their borders; and such rebellion was, beyond all question, a levying of war under the Constitution of the United States, so that all adherence to it, giving aid and comfort, was treason itself. But even if not disposed to admit actual levying of war on the part of the Rebels,—though of this there can be no doubt,—there was surely preparation and purpose so to do; and any contribution to such preparation and purpose was disloyalty, if not treason. Clearly, Jefferson Davis at that time was a traitor, at the head of traitors. What, then, can be thought of a Senator who offered arms to him?

I put aside, also, the suggestion of the Senator from New Jersey [Mr. Ten Eyck], founded on the language of the President in his inaugural address of the 4th of March. It is true that the President spoke of the Rebels in generous, fraternal words, such as became the Chief Magistrate of a great people, not yet renouncing the idea of conquering by kindness, and not forgetting that Leviathan was tamed by a cord. But, whatever the language of the President, it is none the less clear that the Rebellion at that very moment was completely organized by a succession of overt acts, which fixed the treasonable position of its authors, and especially of its chief, to whom the letter offering arms was addressed.

I put aside, also, the argument of the Senator from California [Mr. Latham], especially that part founded on the tolerance shown to treason, when uttered here by the retiring Rebels. Nobody questions that treason was uttered on this floor, or that treasonable counsels went forth from this Chamber. But the Senate was then controlled by the associates of the Senator of Indiana, and it was not in our power to check or chastise the traitors. It is within the recollection of many that those utterances were heard on this side of the Chamber, not only with indignant patriotism, but with bitter, stinging regret at the abject condition of the Senate, then so entirely in the hands of traitors that we were obliged to hear in silence. Surely such utterances, wicked with treason, constituting the very voice of the Rebellion, cannot be an apology for the disloyal letter of the Senator; nor can silence, when we were powerless to act, be any argument for silence now that power and responsibility are ours.

I agree with the Senator from Illinois [Mr. Browning], that the whole conduct and declaration of the author may be legitimately employed to elucidate the character of this letter; but I found no supplementary charge on such conduct or declaration. Others may use the argument that the Senator has declared himself against coercion of the Rebel States, or that he has refused to vote the necessary means for the suppression of the Rebellion; but I use no such argument. Much as I lament such a course, and justly obnoxious as I regard it, yet I cannot consider it as an argument for expulsion of the Senator. Freedom of debate is among the triumphs of modern civilization; and it shall never be impaired by any vote or word of mine. To this freedom I have held fast, when almost alone in this body; and what I have steadily vindicated for myself against all odds I shall never deny to another. Therefore, if I am the judge, there is no Senator who will not always be perfectly free to speak and vote as he thinks best on every question that shall legitimately arise; but beyond this immunity he must not go. He shall not talk treason; he shall not parley with rebellion; he shall not address to it words of sympathy and good-will; especially, he shall not recognize its chief in his pretended character of President, nor shall he send him improved fire-arms to be employed in the work of treason.

Putting aside all these considerations, the case against the Senator from Indiana is clear. All apologies, all excuses, utterly fail. It is vain to say that the bearer of the letter was his lifelong friend, as it is vain to say, also, that the Senator did not dream that there would be war. The first apology is as feeble as the second is audacious. If the Senator did not dream that there would be war, then why send arms to the chief of the Rebellion? To Jefferson Davis as a private citizen, to Jefferson Davis as a patriot Senator, there was no occasion or motive for sending arms. It was only to Jefferson Davis as chief of the Rebellion that arms could be sent; and to him, in that character, they were sent. But even if the Rebellion were not at that time manifest in overt acts,—as it clearly was,—still the sending of arms was a positive provocation and contribution to its outbreak, especially when the arms were sent by a Senator. And now, at the risk of repetition, I say again, it is not necessary that the war should have been commenced on the part of the United States. It is enough, that, on the part of Jefferson Davis, at the date of the letter, there was actual levying of war, or, at least, a purpose to levy war; and in either of these two cases, the latter as well as the former, the guilt of the Senator offering arms is complete,—call it treason, or simply disloyalty, if you will.

It is vain that you seek to surround the Senatorial letter-writer with the technical defences of a judicial tribunal. This will not do. They are out of place. God grant, that, in the administration of justice, a citizen arraigned for his life may always be presumed innocent till he is proved guilty! But, while zealously asserting this presumption in a criminal trial, I utterly deny it in the present case. The two proceedings are radically unlike. In the one we think most of the individual; in the other we think most of the Senate. The flag-officer of a fleet, or the commander of a garrison, when only suspected of correspondence with the enemy, is without delay deprived of command; nor can any technical presumption of innocence be invoked in his defence. For the sake of the fleet, for the sake of the garrison, which must not be betrayed, it is your duty to see that he is deprived of command. Nor can a suspected Senator, with all his confidential trusts, legislative, diplomatic, and executive, expect any tolerance denied to a suspected flag-officer, or to a suspected commander of a garrison. If not strong, pure, and upright in himself, he must not expect to find strength, purity, and uprightness in any presumption of innocence, or in any technical rule of law. For the sake of the Senate, he must be deprived of his place. Afterwards, should he be arraigned at law, he will be allowed to employ all the devices and weapons familiar to judicial proceedings.

There is another illusion into which the Senator has fallen; and it seems to me that the Senator from New York, and perhaps other Senators, have followed him. It is the assumption, that, in depriving the Senator of his seat, we take from him something that is really his. This is a mistake. A Senator is simply a trustee. The Senator is trustee for Indiana. But his fidelity as trustee is now drawn in question; and since no person is allowed to continue as trustee whose character is not above suspicion,—inspired uberrimâ fide, according to the language of the law,—the case of the Senator should obviously be remanded to the State for which he still assumes to act. Should he be wronged by expulsion, then will that State promptly return him to his present trust, and our judgment will be generously reversed. The Senator has no right for himself here; he does not represent himself; but he represents his State, of which he is the elected, most confidential trustee; and when his fidelity is openly impeached, there is no personal right which can become his shield. Tell me not of the seat of the Senator. Let the Senator be cautious in language. By courtesy the seat may be his; but in reality the seat belongs to Indiana; and this honored State, unsurpassed in contributions to the patriot armies of the Republic, may justly protest against longer misrepresentation on this floor by a disloyal Senator.

But the Senator from Pennsylvania [Mr. Cowan] exclaims—and the Senator from New York follows him—that the offence of the Senator is “treason or nothing.” For myself, I have no hesitation in expressing the conviction that it is treason. If it be not treason in a Senator to send arms to an open traitor, whom he at the same time acknowledges in his traitorous character, then it were better to blot out the crime of treason from our statute-book, and to rase its definition from the Constitution. Sir, it is treason. But even if not treason according to all the technical requirements of that crime, obviously and unquestionably it is an act of disloyalty so discreditable, so unworthy, and so dangerous as to render the duty of the Senate imperative. Is it nothing that the Senator should write a friendly letter, make open acknowledgment, and offer warlike aid to a public traitor? Is it nothing, that, sitting in this Chamber, the Senator should send to the chief of the Rebellion words of sympathy and arms of power? Is it nothing that the Senator should address the traitor in terms of courtesy and official respect? Is it nothing that the Senator should call the traitor “His Excellency,” and should hail him “President of the Confederation of States”? And is it nothing that the Senator should offer to the traitor thus addressed what of all things he most coveted, to be turned against the Constitution which the Senator has sworn to support?

Sir, the case is too plain for argument. You cannot argue that two and two make four, that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, or that the sun shines in the sky. All these are palpable to reason or to sense. But, if I did not see before me honored Senators, valued friends, who think otherwise, I should say that to the patriot soul it is hardly less palpable that a Senator, acknowledging in friendly correspondence the chief of a Rebellion set on foot in defiance of the United States, and sending to him arms, whose only possible use was in upholding the Rebellion, has justly forfeited that confidence which is as much needed as a commission to assure his seat in this Chamber. The case is very plain, and we have taken too much time to consider it. We have been dilatory when we ought to have been prompt, and have hearkened to technical defences when we should have surrendered to that indignation which disloyalty is calculated to arouse.

The Senator from New Hampshire [Mr. Clark] has reminded us—as John Quincy Adams reminded another generation—of that beautiful work of Art in the other wing of the Capitol, where the Muse of History, with faithful pen, registers the transactions of each day, and he trusted that over against the record of past disloyalty another page might beam with the just judgment that followed. But there is another work of Art, famous as Art itself, and proceeding from its greatest master, which may admonish us precisely what to do. The ancient satrap Heliodorus, acting in the name of a distant sovereign, entered that sumptuous temple dedicated to the true God, where stood the golden candlesticks and hung the veil which was yet unrent, and profanely seized the riches under protection of the altar itself, when suddenly, at the intercession of the high priest, an angelic horseman armed with thongs is seen to dash the intruder upon the marble pavement, and to sweep him with scourges from the sacred presence. Now that disloyalty, in the acknowledged name of a distant traitor, intrudes into this sanctuary of the Constitution, and insists upon a place at our altar, there should be indignant chastisement, swift as the angelic horseman that moves immortal in the colors of Raffaelle. In vain do you interpose appeals for lenity or forbearance. The case does not allow them. I know well the beauty and the greatness of charity. For the Senator I have charity; but there is a better charity due to the Senate, whose solemn trusts are in jeopardy; and even if you do not accept completely the saying of Antiquity, which makes duty to country the great charity embracing all other charities, you will not deny that it is at least a commanding obligation, by the side of which all that we owe the Senator is small. And, Sir, let us not forget, let the precious example be present in our souls, that He who taught the beauty and the greatness of charity was the first to scourge the money-changers from the temple of the Lord.

ANSWER OF A WITNESS CRIMINATING HIMSELF.

Again, it is asked if a witness is permitted to determine for himself whether to answer the question proposed. Here also the Common Law, when properly interpreted, is clear. The witness cannot be the final judge. He must submit to the decision of the Court, which will determine whether his answer may criminate him, by revealing either guilt or a possible link in the evidence of guilt.

But then, Mr. President, why speak of the Common Law? Why revert to these antiquarian inquiries, when we have the Constitution of the United States specifically dealing with this very question? In the fifth article of the Amendments it is provided that “no person shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself.” Such are the very words of the Constitution, derived from the Common Law, but imparting precision and limitation to the Common Law. Now it seems to me it will be enough, if, on this occasion, we follow the text of the Constitution. As in the pending proposition there is nothing inconsistent with the Constitution, we need not ransack the wide and ancient demesnes of the Common Law to stir up difficulties. Whatever the rule at Common Law, plainly under the Constitution its operation is restricted to a “criminal case,” leaving a case of infamy untouched.

I am free to say, Sir,—and what I am about to remark is particularly in answer to the Senator from New York [Mr. Harris],—that, if this question were presented independent of the Constitution, I should be little disposed to follow the Common Law. In my judgment the Common Law is less wise here than it ought to be. I cannot but think that the jurisprudence of other civilized countries, derived from the Roman Law, supplies a better rule. There is no other civilized jurisprudence under which a witness is excused from answering any question, though the answer may affect his character or honor, or even render him criminal. The Common Law, at an early day, under a generous inspiration, adopted a contrary principle, which, crossing the ocean with our forefathers, is embodied in the text of the Constitution. Finding it there, I accept it; certainly I do not quarrel with it; but I cannot consent that it shall receive any expansion, especially interfering with the public interests. I hope the bill may pass as it comes from the House, without amendment. It is a good bill.

LIMITATION OF DEBATE IN THE SENATE.

I must confess that I hesitate to place among Rules of the Senate a limitation of debate to five minutes,—not that I desire in our conversations on business to exceed that allowance. Personally I am content with what pleases my associates; but I doubt the expediency of such a rule, which thus far is a stranger among us.

Limitations of debate in various forms play a large part in the other Chamber. Shall they begin here, even in the small way proposed? A five minutes’ rule is not the previous question, with its death-dealing garrote, but it is a limitation of debate, and the Senate has from the beginning set itself against any such restriction, insisting always upon the largest latitude and amplest opportunity.

If there were any obvious good to be accomplished by such a rule, if there were any exigency seeming to require the sacrifice, I should welcome it; but I put it to Senators, whether experience in Executive Session does not show that it is unnecessary. I cannot doubt that the very business contemplated by the rule would be discussed directly, plainly, briefly, according to the essential nature of the question, even without any restriction. But, if unnecessary, why make a change which will look so ill that it were better to bear inconvenience rather than have such a deformity?

It is enough, if on a critical occasion we are able to close our doors, leaving the great privilege of debate unchecked, to be employed as sword or buckler, according to the promptings of patriotism and the conscience of Senators.

INDUSTRIAL EXHIBITION AT LONDON.

The resolution passed Congress, and was approved by the President on the 27th of July. Under it a Commission was organized by the President, with the Secretary of State as Chairman. Associated with him were eminent gentlemen from different walks of life, from different parts of the country——

Mr. Sumner. All parts,—the West, the North, and the East.

Mr. Sumner. You will find the names on the printed list. At a meeting in Washington, a sub-committee was organized for the direction of business. Through this sub-committee a correspondence has been conducted with persons all over the country interested in the Exhibition, and industrial products have been gathered at New York, to be forwarded to London; but their proceedings are stopped for want of means, and the actual question is simply this: Will the Senate allow the business already commenced under their auspices to fail, or will they make the needful appropriation to carry it forward?

There is at least one precedent. Ten years ago witnessed an industrial exhibition in London, which attracted the attention of the civilized world. There was no provision in advance by the Government of the United States for any representation there; but patriotic citizens came forward at the last moment, volunteered money and representation, and through their activity we became honorably known there,—so, indeed, I think I may say, as to gain renown for our industrial products. I would not exaggerate; but nobody can forget the triumph of the American reaper or the American mower. I believe I state what cannot be denied, when I say, that, through the representation of American industry at that exhibition, we gained not only fame abroad, but new fields of activity for our industry, and new markets for our homely, but most useful products.

Now there is to be another exhibition, and the question is, whether our country shall be represented. An appropriation is needed for this purpose. The Committee, after most careful deliberation, not acting, I assure you, hastily, came to the conclusion that our country should be represented there, and they recommended the appropriation of the modest sum of $35,000. Persons interested in the subject desired a larger appropriation. The Committee concluded in favor of $35,000, as the utmost they would ask from Congress at the present time. Accordingly they have made that recommendation, believing it for the general welfare.

I do not know the objection of my friend from New Hampshire. Perhaps he is against any representation. If so, I can understand that he should oppose the appropriation. But is his objection founded on grounds of economy peculiar to the present moment, or is it because he is against such appearance at any time? If founded on grounds of economy peculiar to the present moment, I must say I cannot enter into his idea. Nobody more completely than myself can appreciate the importance of bending every corporal and intellectual agent to the work of putting down the Rebellion; but I am unwilling that meanwhile all the glorious and beneficent arts of peace should slumber. Nor would I, even while pushing this war to victory, cease to watch with guardian care the industrial interests of my country. Those interests, I am sure, will be advanced, if we allow them to be represented at this great centre of industry; and so will all the national resources increase and multiply. And this is not simply because the exhibition is in London, or because it may open a market in London, but because through London we approach all the great markets of the world; and while making our products known in the great metropolis, we make them known wherever civilization extends. The exhibition will be an immense fair, to which exhibitors can have access only through their respective governments. I am unwilling to deprive American citizens of this opportunity.

I assume, therefore, that my friend cannot be against contributing to this exhibition simply on grounds peculiar to this moment. It must be on some other broader, more general ground. I must say that I cannot enter into that idea, either. If it was good for us to be represented ten years ago,—and I believe all, after the exhibition, were satisfied that it was good for us,—I believe it better now. Surely, all this my friend has at heart. I hope he will not forget that the interests of farmers, the interests of inventors, the interests of mechanics, the interests of all who toil and of all who produce,—in one word, the great diversified interests of the people, cannot fail to be promoted by this opportunity. And here is reason enough for the small outlay.