to say, the sincerest feelings of my heart and the maturest convictions of my mind, without fear and partiality.
I have been called here by no selfish aspiration. You can give me nothing that would promote my fortunes. I can not be a candidate for the Presidency, owing to a benignant provision of the Constitution, which declares foreign-born citizens ineligible—a high Constitutional privilege I might call it, for it exempts us from that most malignant of all moral diseases—a disease almost sure to kill whomsoever it attacks—the Presidential fever. Neither do I come here as a partisan to coin a little capital for this or that political organization; for the welfare of the American people stands to me above all party interest. I have, then, nothing to ask of you but that you hear me, not for my cause, but for your own—for that of our common country.
You have invited me to discuss before you the present condition of public affairs and the problems they impose upon us. I will state them as they appear to my mind in brief review.
The civil war left behind it an alienation of feeling between those lately arrayed against each other, which is dangerous to the internal peace of the country, and stands in the way of a fruitful coöperation of the social elements. It ought to be disarmed and gradually extinguished by a just, generous and conciliatory policy. In the first line, a general amnesty, the removal of political disabilities, which ought to have been granted long ago, should no longer be delayed.
The new order of things established by the war, whose essence consists in the equality of rights, is still being disturbed by adverse aspirations. It ought to be wisely developed and firmly maintained and secured by the coöperation of all good citizens.
Times of great peril and trouble have fostered the habit
