These words, as near as the writer can remember, were meant to bear upon the inflation of the currency. He wishes to have our greenbacks fixed upon a foundation so that our money will have a permanent value. In other words, he says a dollar of the national currency is worth eighty-eight cents to-day; six months hence it may be worth seventy cents value in gold or silver. He believes that a nation like this ought to fix our money in such a shape that the people cannot be at the mercy of the sharpers of Wall street and Boston. Why should the great American Republic have a fluctuating currency? Is it because our greenbacks are only promises to pay, and that the Republic may become a defaulter in the end, therefore the nation’s notes are in a certain way just like the private citizen’s? This mighty problem of finance requires a kind of statesmanship which has not been brought into the arena of politics during this session of Congress. Carl Schurz says if we make more currency that which we already have will be depreciated.
Whilst Carl Schurz was addressing the vast audience, Senator Morton had turned in his seat so that he sat facing the orator. Not a word that fell from the speaker’s lips were lost to this highly gifted product of the great State of Indiana, most noticeable and in one sense the most interesting member of the United States Senate. We have all read the story in the “Arabian Nights,” where the men of a certain city had become so powerful and so very naughty that the genii had to do something that would not destroy the men for all usefulness yet would prevent any outbursts of wickedness or folly. So he touched them all with the enchanter’s wand at some point below the shoulder blades. Instantly the men lost the power of locomotion. Whilst the upper part of their persons were alive, the lower became black marble. But what Senator Morton has lost in one extreme, he has gained in another, for to-day he is the strongest man who attempts to lead in his faction of the Senate. There is something about his head which bears a striking resemblance to the portraits of Webster, and he is thought to be one of the most forcible speakers in the Senate. His arguments are hurled at his opponent as cannon balls fly to kill the enemy. But if he has a hard, rugged, sharp side to his intellect, there is another as fascinating as that said to be possessed by Aaron Burr or Mirabeau. Men may not agree with this opinion, because they never can see that point of his character which is revealed to women alone. Men see only the surface of men. It is left to women to go down into the depths and bring up the pearls and coral.
About the audience that listened to Senators Schurz and Morton. There was a large delegation from the House, composed of those who have apparently taken the deepest hold of the slippery question of finance. Benjamin Butler was there, flushed, worried, and apparently somewhat worn in his encounter with the committee of Boston, Massachusetts.
He had just had a conference with them in regard to the collectorship of Boston in his committee room, and told them “hands off,” and yet he was not happy. They, too, had come over from the House to listen; sharp, keen Puritans, determined as so many bloodhounds. But the nation realizes that when Massachusetts is torn by her own intestine broils the rest of the world is safe, the Centennial will flourish, and no possible harm can follow.
Few men have attracted the notice of the Senate and secured that close attention as did Carl Schurz in his effort of yesterday. Even Senator Sumner laid aside his pen and pushed back his large pile of papers, apparently giving himself up to the fascination of the hour. Senator Mitchell, of Oregon, sat leaning back upon a sofa in a distant corner. He had resigned his Senatorial seat for the time to benefit a prominent member of Congress. As he appeared, with the gorgeous walls of the Senate for a background, no finer picture could be found for an artist’s copy. Tall, elegant, and graceful, with a singular purity of complexion, his head crowned by a glory of chestnut hair, such as the ancient painters used to delight to transfer to their canvas, large deep blue eyes, such as Raphael gave his Madonnas. “Fell into trouble with women,” said the newspapers. Will water fall when the clouds are moist? Will labor seek the neighborhood of capital? Alas! Will a duck swim? Senator Mitchell is not to blame because he is the handsomest specimen in the Senate. He did not make himself. Suppose he made mistakes or committed mischief before the sense of right and justice was crystallized in his mind? Who knows anything about the temptations placed before Adonis? What did Adam do when Eve gave him the apple and told him it would do him good? It is true the Oregon legislature have never discussed the subject of apples, but they sent Senator Mitchell back indorsed by the highest authority of the State, and he has only to take hold of legislation with heart and soul, and live the same pure and consistent life that he has in the last few years, and the country will honor him as one of her most distinguished sons.
Who is that leaning back in all that negligent abandon so becoming the occupant of that particular chair? It is the silver Senator of Nevada—the successor of Jim Nye. “Why, the man that wants my place,” says Jeems, “has a silver mine; do you think I can beat that?” Well, there he is, the monarch of the silver mine, watching with closest attention the eloquent speaker. Everything about him looks as if it had a standard value. If he should happen to trip and fall a metallic ring would be heard, just as if a new coin was thrown upon the pavement. A fine-looking man, rather below the medium height, but the most perfect specimen of high and costly living to be seen in the Senate. One can imagine him looking at the world and saying, “I am bound to get all the comfort. My house shall be a palace, my bath shall be champagne!” As yet he has done nothing to make himself felt as an integral part of this august body, but is prized at the capital because he is pleasing in manner, he is a United States Senator, and last but not least, he is a dashing widower with a silver mine attached.
Olivia.