lecturing business, to be obliged to devote my time and energies to the poorest of all occupations—making money—while the time ripens for great decisions. I feel as though I could do something in Washington—but then I cannot help it. I have to pay my tribute to the necessities of life.
I shall write that speech on the crisis as soon as the report of the Thirty-three is out and distinct propositions are before the people. And then I shall let you know of it.
One word about personal matters. I received a letter from Doolittle (who, by the way, deserves the thanks of every true Republican for the firm stand he took in the Senate committee), asking me whether I wanted the Sardinian mission; in my reply I repeated in substance what I had written you about it. The matter seems to have been talked of in Senatorial circles. I am informed that George P. Marsh of Vermont and Jay Morris are pushing for the same position. Now let me say, however much an offer of that kind on the part of the Administration would gratify me, I do not want to engage in a scramble of aspirants. If the Government means to tender me anything, let it be a spontaneous offer. To ask for an office is, in my opinion, to pay too high a price for it. I shall not do that myself, nor do I wish to have others do it for me. I will tell you why I am somewhat scrupulous on that point. If I ask for a place, I lose part of my independence; if I merely accept what is spontaneously offered, I am bound by no obligation; and I must confess my independence in political life is worth more to me than all the favors which a government can shower upon a man.
Let me hear from you again and keep me well posted. Every letter from Washington will be considered a great favor.
