Value of George W. Julian’s Services to the Nation.

Washington, March 7, 1871.

The Forty-first Congress of the United States has passed into history. It will simply be remembered on account of its negative qualities. It has done little good to its friends, and less harm to its enemies. It attempted reconstruction, but this was too large a pill for so small a throat, so the whole matter has been stowed away in Ben Butler’s committee room, where it is expected that it will be kept in the very best state of preservation. No law has been enacted to protect the Southern Unionist, whilst the bloody Ku Klux and fierce highwayman hold possession of every inch of the late Confederate soil. Is not the word “liberty” a mockery when every prominent Republican in certain districts of the country has to go armed to the teeth? when women, for expressing their sentiments, are taken from their beds at midnight and cruelly flogged by fiends with human forms and masked faces? With a Republican administration and a Congress made up of a majority of the same element, why are not life and free expression of opinion protected everywhere? Who is to blame for murder, rapine, and violence? Who is to blame for the pall which is slowly settling down upon the forces of the late grand army of the Republic? Is it not madness to talk about universal suffrage and universal amnesty when life and property are no more safe than in the South American republics? Why should we attempt to annex more territory, when, apparently, we have not the strength to keep the peace within our own domain? If Congress denies the President power to send the military wherever the laws are defied, let him bring the same influence to bear upon it as in the San Domingo business, and the matter will be settled in less time than it takes to cook this national pie. Where is the coming man or woman who will have the power and strength of mind to blot out Mason and Dixon’s line, and who will make this nation feel that it had no North, no South, no East, no West, but that it is one conglomerate whole, like a huge glacier or a mountain boulder?

The Forty-first Congress will be remembered because some of the largest minds and best men in the country with its departure will step back into the ranks of private life. It is a national loss when such men as George W. Julian can be found no longer on the floors of Congress. As chairman of the Committee on Public Lands he has saved millions of dollars for the Government. Firm as adamant, he has stood before the waves of corruption, whilst the humblest and weakest have always found in him a firm friend. It is true, he is one of the warmest advocates of woman suffrage, and for this reason, perhaps more than any other, the womanhood of this country should give this important subject a most thorough investigation, for when a great and good man like Mr. Julian advises what is good for us let us listen and not be afraid. Mr. Julian is not only immense in physical size, but he also has a colossal mental organization. At all times he is an ardent searcher after knowledge and truth. Not a great many years ago Mr. Julian lost a most beautiful and accomplished wife, and very soon after a boy of rare promise. How the strong man writhed beneath this double blow! For months he seemed more like a stone statue than a living man. Meeting him one day and noticing that look of the grave on his face, the writer ventured to say, “If there is any truth in spiritualism, she may be very near you.” “If there is any truth in spiritualism I will know it,” replied Mr. Julian. After a separation of months we met again. “Any tidings from the unknown bourne?” “None! None whatever. I have patiently investigated. It is all chaff! chaff! I have not been able to gather a single kernel of wheat. God will take care of us all in his own way. I think I am learning the lesson of submission, and this is the hardest task man is ever set to learn.”

Mr. Julian was an Abolitionist in the days when nothing could be more disgraceful; when urchins, with boys of a larger growth, pelted the unfortunate advocate of such ideas with eggs no longer fresh laid. During the long bitter years of the rebellion Mr. Julian worked with untiring energy, not only in his seat on the floor of the House, but wherever he was needed he proved himself to be the soldier’s friend. He has served twelve years in Congress, and during all this time he has never been identified with any legislative measure except such as reflects credit on his judgment and the Republican party. If he has not achieved immortal renown during his last term as a member, it is because the Forty-first Congress has been in a mildewed condition from the beginning to the decline. Mr. Julian has just passed the noon of life, but the flush of morning still shines in his countenance, and on bright, sunny days he may be seen wending his way toward the Capitol, his fine face aglow with honest, kindly feeling, and his majestic form towering a whole head above the majority of his countrymen. Let the country he has so long and honorably served bid him a momentary adieu, with the expectation that he will respond at any future time when the services of a man are required who needs a reputation like that of CÆsar’s wife. The nation’s loss is Indiana’s gain, and if the benighted State is to be regenerated, the result will be brought about through the unremitting toil of such men as George W. Julian.

The Commonwealth of Ohio has recalled Judge Welker and Judge Lawrence, two of the soundest Republicans and safest men in the country. As one of the most prominent members of the Committee for the District of Columbia, Judge Welker has had no easy task to perform. All matters of importance pertaining to the District have been brought to his notice, and all complaints for which it was supposed that Congressional legislation could provide a remedy have been poured into his ears unsparingly. If any abuses were found to exist at the national lunatic asylum the presence of Judge Welker was instantly sought. This man has been six years in Congress, and during this time no man can show a better record. He has never been caught in the snares of the lobby, and he goes back to his constituents with clean, spotless hands. It is rumored that Ohio intends to make him a governor, and if the best material is needed for the sacrifice nothing better can be found. Judge Welker is a self-made man, and that may help to account for his firm, steel-like qualities. It would take the sum total of twenty-five ordinary Congressmen to make a man equal in every moral aspect to Judge Welker; and when it can be said that he is made of colors that will not wash, and that neither man, woman, nor child ever pinned their faith to him and was disappointed, nothing further is necessary descriptive of his character.

In figure this late Congressman is rather below the medium size, with a finely formed head, crowned with heavy luxuriant curls, in exchange for which a woman would almost sell her birthright. Now add a pair of deep, dark eyes, so transparent that you can often catch a glimpse of the soul within, and you have the leading points that indicate the man known as Judge Martin Welker.

Judge Lawrence has been a brave man on the floor of Congress, and no member has inspired the lobby with greater terror. He has always been the sworn foe of railroad schemes, ocean subsidies, corporations, and monopolies. How vigilantly he has watched the late appropriation bills; and he never seemed to realize that there was any difference between Uncle Sam’s pocket and his own. How thoroughly he has attended to the affairs of his constituents. If he has sometimes been accused of selfishness, Ohio has never had reason to complain, for if he has sinned in this respect it has all been done for her sake. Mr. Lincoln declared during the late rebellion that Massachusetts, Ohio, and Iowa controlled the destiny of this nation. If this is conceded, it is because of the strength of the Congressional delegation of these respective States. Ohio has been trying the experiment of “rotation in office,” and for the next two years the old Buckeye State will be out at sea on her trial trip. It is true some of the old officers are left at their posts, and if no storms arise the ship will probably return in safety.

Iowa, not content to let well enough alone, has recalled two-thirds of her late delegation. No longer will the eye of the gallery be dazzled by him who has been termed the handsomest man in Congress. Alas! alas! William B. Allison is no more in the seat he lately occupied. Never again will the large brown eyes be seen wandering uneasily from floor to ceiling, seeking some soft, receptive spot, whereon to languish and die. Mr. Allison’s Congressional reputation rests upon the fact that to all appearances he has been the bosom friend of Representative Hooper, of Boston. It is not known positively whether Mr. Allison will return to Iowa and resume the practice of law, or whether he intends to be stuffed and sent to Boston to occupy a conspicuous ornamental place in Mr. Hooper’s gorgeous library. As soon as a decision is reached the people shall be apprised.

Mr. Loughridge, of Iowa, also goes out. He will chiefly be remembered as favoring the minority report on the woman suffrage question in the Judiciary Committee. Judge Loughridge agrees with Mrs. Woodhull on the fourteenth and fifteenth amendments to the Constitution, and thinks women are already entitled to vote.

Pennsylvania has made a great clearing in the ranks of her Representatives. One-half of the late members of the Forty-first Congress are re-elected. But this includes the late Hon. John Covode. According to the record, eleven of the old members are in their seats and thirteen new men are to try their hands at the raw work of legislation. The most prominent men who retire are Charles O’Neill, of Philadelphia, and Daniel J. Morrell, of Johnstown, both able men on the floor. Mr. O’Neill has been in Congress eight years, winning fresh honors with every succeeding year, and just at the present time, when he has attained the zenith of Congressional usefulness, he slips back into the calm waters of private life. If Philadelphia can stand the affliction there is no one else to complain. Hon. Charles O’Neill looks as if he had just laid aside all care and trouble and was about to commence the world again.

Chicago recalls the stately Mr. Judd, one of the most courtly and elegant men in Congress. Few men are stronger than he is in legislative matters; but a man of polished manners is remarkable because the House of Representatives is not noted for its laws of genteel propriety. And then it is so strange that Chicago should be distinguished for its grace or courtly qualities.

The Hon. Shelby M. Cullom goes also, but then it is said that he will return next winter as Congressman for the State at large. The greatest wit in Congress, Proctor Knott, retires to the shades of Lebanon, Kentucky. Who will forget his memorable speech on the railroad to Duluth and the paving of Pennsylvania avenue? We know nothing about his qualities as a legislator, but blessings be on the head of a man that can make us laugh.

Rogers, of Arkansas, actually yields up the legislative ghost. Rogers, the man who wanted all the women of the Treasury blown out exactly as the flame of a lamp is served. “Poor Rogers,” Susan B. Anthony calls him. If the delectable Susan meant poor in flesh, she was right, for Rogers resembles a bear immediately upon waking up after taking its long delicious winter snooze.

This letter comes to an end because no more ex-Congressmen to-day can step across the vestibule of our mind.

Olivia.