Far and wide he was called a thief, a briber, a promoter of steamship subsidies, railway swindles, robberies of the government in all possible forms and fashions.  Newspapers and everybody else called him a pious hypocrite, a sleek, oily fraud, a reptile who manipulated temperance movements, prayer meetings, Sunday schools, public charities, missionary enterprises, all for his private benefit.  And as these charges were backed up by what seemed to be good and sufficient, evidence, they were believed with national unanimity.

Then Mr. Dilworthy made another move.  He moved instantly to Washington and “demanded an investigation.”  Even this could not pass without, comment.  Many papers used language to this effect: 

“Senator Dilworthy’s remains have demanded an investigation.  This sounds fine and bold and innocent; but when we reflect that they demand it at the hands of the Senate of the United States, it simply becomes matter for derision.  One might as well set the gentlemen detained in the public prisons to trying each other.  This investigation is likely to be like all other Senatorial investigations—­amusing but not useful.  Query.  Why does the Senate still stick to this pompous word, ‘Investigation?’ One does not blindfold one’s self in order to investigate an object.”

Mr. Dilworthy appeared in his place in the Senate and offered a resolution appointing a committee to investigate his case.  It carried, of course, and the committee was appointed.  Straightway the newspapers said: 

“Under the guise of appointing a committee to investigate the late Mr. Dilworthy, the Senate yesterday appointed a committee to investigate his accuser, Mr. Noble.  This is the exact spirit and meaning of the resolution, and the committee cannot try anybody but Mr. Noble without overstepping its authority.  That Dilworthy had the effrontery to offer such a resolution will surprise no one, and that the Senate could entertain it without blushing and pass it without shame will surprise no one.  We are now reminded of a note which we have received from the notorious burglar Murphy, in which he finds fault with a statement of ours to the effect that he had served one term in the penitentiary and also one in the U. S. Senate.  He says, ’The latter statement is untrue and does me great injustice.’  After an unconscious sarcasm like that, further comment is unnecessary.”

And yet the Senate was roused by the Dilworthy trouble.  Many speeches were made.  One Senator (who was accused in the public prints of selling his chances of re-election to his opponent for $50,000 and had not yet denied the charge) said that, “the presence in the Capital of such a creature as this man Noble, to testify against a brother member of their body, was an insult to the Senate.”

Another Senator said, “Let the investigation go on and let it make an example of this man Noble; let it teach him and men like him that they could not attack the reputation of a United States-Senator with impunity.”