ll the arguments that could be piled, Pelion upon Ossa, in
favor of this political monstrosity.

I now propose to read from a pamphlet sent to me by a lady whom I
am not able to characterize as a resident of any State, although I
believe she resides in the State of Maine. I do not know whether she
be wife or mother. She signs this pamphlet as Adeline D.T. Whitney. I
have read it twice, and read it to pure and gentle and intellectual
women. I say to-day it ought to be in every household in this broad
land. It ought to be the domestic gospel of every true, gentle,
loving, virtuous woman upon all this continent. There is not one line
or syllable in it that is not written in letters of gold. I shall not
read it, for my strength does not suffice, nor will the patience of
the Senate permit, but from beginning to end it breathes the womanly
sentiment which has made pure and great men and gentle and loving
women.

I will venture to say, in my great admiration and respect for this
woman, whether she be married or single, she ought to be a wife, and
ought to be a mother. Such a woman could only have brave and wise men
for sons and pure and virtuous women for daughters. Here is her advice
to her sex. I am only sorry that every word of it could not be read in
the Senate, but I have trespassed too long.

Mr. COCKRELL. Let it be printed in your remarks.

Mr. VEST. I shall ask that it be printed. I will undertake, however,
to read only a few sentences, not of exceptional superiority to the
rest, because every sentence is equal to every other. There is not one
impure unintellectual aspiration or thought throughout the whole of
it. Would to God that I knew her, that I could thank her on behalf of
the society and politics of the United States for this production.

After all--

She says to her own sex--

After all, men work for women; or, if they think they do not, it
would leave them but sorry satisfaction to abandon them to such
existence as they could arrange without us.

Oh, how true that is; how true!

In blessed homes, or in scattered dissipations of show, amusement, or
the worse which these shows and amusements are but terribly akin to,
women give purpose to and direct the results of all men's work. If
the false standards of living first urge them, until at length the
horrible intoxication of the game itself drives them on further and
deeper, are we less responsible for the last state of those men than
for t