Mr. Lincoln (quickly). Ah! that heroic sufferer shall have something better than a clerkship if he ever returns.

Mr. Stanton. I have thought much of this exchange of prisoners and captivity amelioration.  When the insurrection was inchoate, we could afford to be punctilious.  But its present gigantic proportions surely affect the question (so to term it) of ransom.  When our countrymen were in the Algerine prisons we took means to treat for them.  What say you, gentlemen, against sending commissioners to Richmond for the purpose of supervising the medicines, clothing, food and exchange of our prisoners?

Mr. Seward. That may only be conceded by accepting commissioners for a similar purpose from the rebel government.

Mr. Chase. Our plans are now so perfectly matured that even the danger of spies recedes.  I am in favor of Mr. Stanton’s proposition.

Mr. Lincoln. I think you can try it.  There are so many prisoners, from all parts of the country, that public sentiment must uphold the measure.

Mr. Smith. Mr. Secretary of State, you were taking notes whilst Mr. Stanton was giving his views upon the restoration question.  Were they on that subject?

Mr. Seward. Yes.  Some fleeting thoughts occurred to me which I was desirous of preserving for to-morrow. I have a great deal of faith in establishing Southern ‘doughfacery.’

Mr. Welles. Doughfacery?

Mr. Seward. Yes:  that supremacy of pocket over pride which so long afflicted the North.  Above and beyond the slave-owners must rise the great class of manufacturers and merchants,—­almost every third man of Northern origin, too,—­whose pocket is the great sufferer, and without whose property, hereafter, plantations can not prosper.  Given a decent pretext for adjustment, when pride will go to the wall.  Once allow the masses to grasp the reins, and the slave-owners will be driven to the wall-side of the political highway also.  This I call Southern doughfacery for the sake of a phrase well understood.

Mr. Blair. Then your old plan of the great national convention comes in vogue?

Mr. Lincoln. My plan! (Good humoredly.) You must not all steal my thunder.  By the way, Seward, your pleasant friend Judge D——­, who came from New York about Col.  Corcoran, told me the meaning of that phrase.  It seems a Dublin stage manager got up a scenic play with thunder in it perfectly imitated by a diapason of bass drums.  A rival got up another scenic play, to which, out of jealous pique, the inventor repaired as a spectator.  To his surprise he heard his own invention from behind the scenes.  He instantly exclaimed aloud, ’The rascal, he’s stolen my thunder!’

Mr. Seward (jocularly). The President finds a parallel between a national convention and thunder.  Well, well, the clearest atmosphere is breathed after the clouds culminate in thunder and lightning.  I accept the application.