Without the delay of half a minute he said: "Agreed."
There the matter ended, and the promise was kept. In 1872, and not many days before he left for Europe, he said: "I want to ask you a question about General Grant."
I said: "You know that that is a forbidden topic."
"Yes, but I am not going to speak controversially."
I said: "Say on."
He said: "What do you think of Grant's election?"
I said: "I think he will be elected."
He held up his hands, and in a tone of grief said: "You and Wilson are the only ones who tell me that he has any chance."
Upon his return from Europe it was apparent that his feelings in regard to the Republican Party, and especially in regard to General Grant, had undergone a great change. Our conversations concerning General Grant were resumed free from all restrictions, and without any disturbance of feeling on my part. Not many months before his death Mr. Sumner made a speech in executive session that was conciliatory and just in a marked degree. I urged him to repeat it in public session. He seemed to regard the suggestion with favor, but the speech was not made.
For many years Mr. Sumner had been borne down under the resolutions of censure passed by the State of Massachusetts in disapproval of his position in regard to the return of Confederate flags. That resolution was rescinded at the winter session of 1874. The act brought to Mr. Sumner the highest degree of satisfaction that it was possible for him to realize. Above all things else of a public nature, he cherished the good name of the commonwealth, and for himself there was nothing more precious than her approval. The blow was unexpected, its weight was great, and its weight was never lessened until it was wholly removed. The rescinding resolutions came to me the Saturday next preceding the Wednesday when Mr. Sumner died. I was then in ill health, so ill that my attendance at the Senate did not exceed one half of each day's session through many weeks. Mr. Sumner called upon me to inquire, and anxious to know, whether I could attend the session of Monday and present the resolutions. I gave him the best assurance that my condition permitted. When the resolutions had been presented, and when I was leaving the chamber, Mr. Sumner came to me, and, putting his arm over my shoulder, he walked with me into the lobby, where, after many thanks by him, and with good wishes for my health, we parted, without a thought by me that he had not before him many years of rugged life. For several years previous to 1874, Mr. Sumner had been accustomed to speak of himself as an old man, and on more than one occasion he spoke of life as a burden. To these utterances I gave but little heed.