precedents, I know what can be said in favor of the above proposition. It is true that it corresponds with the earliest practice. But it is also true, that no President of the Senate ever practically decided a disputed case, or claimed the power to do so, and that for more than half a century it has been the uniform usage that, whenever a case of doubt arose, the two houses of Congress took it in hand for settlement. The Wisconsin case can scarcely be quoted as a precedent to the contrary. That is the history of the country, and as the Republican party has not only never questioned that power of the two houses but practically asserted and exercised it, it has become the history of the Republican party. If now after all this, that power is claimed for and by the President of the Senate and exercised to decide all disputed questions in favor of the candidate of his party and thus to determine the result, will not such an act appear in the light of an arbitrary assumption of a doubtful power in the service of party interest? And what will be the effect?
It may be said that bad appearance is of no consequence if the act can be defended with strong argument. Indeed, I trouble myself little about mere clamor, but I do care very much not only about the merit but also about the appearance of such an act in a case like this. I will not follow Mr. Curtis in predicting the certain downfall of the party that does such things, although I think he is right. But there is a far more important consideration. What kind of a precedent would such a proceeding set to be taken advantage of by unscrupulous politicians in the future? It will not be the suspected action of a strictly partisan returning-board alone; it will not be the assumption and exercise of questionable power by the President of the Senate alone,—it will be all these things together by which a party decided a Presidential election
