d, and this led to the discussion of
collateral questions and especially the dropping of the silver
dollar by the act of 1873, the history of which I have heretofore
stated. This speech was a temperate and nonpartisan presentation
of a business question of great importance, and I can say without
egotism that it was well received and commended by the public press
and by my associates in the Senate. Though I sought to repeal a
single clause of a bill of which I was erroneously alleged to be
the author, I was charged with inconsistency, and my speech was
made the text of the long debate that followed. The "silver
Senators," so called, attacked it with violence, and appeals were
made to Democratic Senators to stand by those who had defeated the
election law, and by the position the Democratic Senators had
previously taken in favor of free coinage.

On the 28th of September, and on the 2nd, 13th, 17th and 28th of
October, I made speeches in the current debate, which extended to
every part of the financial legislation of the United States since
the formation of the government. I insert here the description
given by the Washington "Post" of the scene on the 17th:

"The climax of the remarkable day was now at hand. There is no
man in the Senate for whom a deeper feeling of esteem is felt than
John Sherman. He saw the Republican party born, he has been its
soldier as well as its sage, he has sat at the council table of
Presidents. His hair is white, and his muscles have no longer the
elasticity of youth, but age has not dimmed the clearness of his
intellectual vision, while it has added to the wisdom of his
councils. Upon Mr. Sherman, therefore, as he arose, every eye was
turned. Personalities were forgotten, the bitterness of strife
was laid aside. In a picture which must live in the memory of him
who saw it, the spare and bowed form of Mr. Sherman was the central
figure. There was not the slightest trace of feebleness in his
impassioned tones. Except once or twice, as he hesitated a moment
or two for a word to express his thought, there was not a reminder
that the brain at seventy may be inert or the fire be dampened in
the veins.

"Mr. Sherman spoke, as he himself said, neither in reproach nor
anger. It was the appealing tones that gave his speech its power
--its convincing earnestness, its lack of rancor, its sober truth
that gave it weight. Elsewhere it is printed in detail. Suffice
it to say here that h