But the letter in question is a letter of sympathy and friendship, from beginning to end,--such a letter as only one friend could write to another friend. Dated at Washington on the 1st of March, it was calculated, if received by the Pretender, to give him hope and confidence, by inspiring the idea that here in the Senate Chamber there was at least one person still wearing this high trust, who, forgetting all that was due to his country, and forgetting all that was due to the Rebellion, reached forth his hand in friendly salutation. Dated at Washington on the 1st of March, it was calculated, if received, to awaken doubt of the loyalty of the Senate itself, and to encourage belief that here, in this sanctuary of the Constitution, treason might hatch undisturbed. So are we all knit together, that we are strengthened by human sympathy; and the Pretender would have felt new vigor, as the strength of the American Senate was transfused through the declared sympathies of an acknowledged member. The patriot soul recoils from the ancient traitor who flashed a signal torch from a beleaguered citadel; but one of our own number, who yet sits among us, has done this very thing. Such is the necessary conclusion with regard to this letter, if we look at its general character. But when we consider its special import, the conclusion is still more irresistible. The letter clearly comes within the precise text of the Constitution. It is flat treason. I use no soft words, for the occasion does not allow it. Adhering to the enemy, giving them aid and comfort, must be proved by some overt act, of which Blackstone states the following instances: “As by giving them intelligence, by sending them provisions, _by selling them arms_, by treacherously surrendering a fortress, _or the like_.”[132] Such are precise words of this authority, and I do not stop to enforce them. But this letter is an overt act of adherence, giving aid and comfort, identical with the instances mentioned by Blackstone. Read it. “Allow me to introduce to your acquaintance,” so says the letter, “_my friend_ Thomas B. Lincoln, of Texas.” The bearer of the letter is commended as a friend of the writer: but a friend is something more than associate or confederate; he is almost part of one’s self. Thus accredited, his errand is next announced: “He visits _your capital_ mainly to dispose of what he regards a great improvement in fire-arms.” Mark the words “your capital.” Such is the language of an American Senator, writing to the Pretender, whose standard of Rebellion was then flying at Montgomery, in Alabama, which is thus deferentially designated as _his_ capital. Observe next the declared object of the visit. It is “to dispose of what he regards a great improvement in fire-arms.” Thus does an American Senator send actual, open, unequivocal aid to the Chief of the Rebellion. It is true, he does not send him rifles or cannon; but he sends him “a great improvement in fire-arms,” through which