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MISCEL l. A N KOUS.
Father Murphy's Election Sermon •
FROM TUI’ MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
You arc called here together to day,
boys, in regard of the word of truth,
and the rights of mild Ireland. Mind
what I siy to you. The sorrow’s the
use of tny speaking what’s all as one as
gospel, unless you attend to me, and go
away with something In your head that a
coinh couldn't take out.
Did you ever hear of one Sir Joseph
Yorke? To ho sure yon didn't; I’ll an
swer for you. Now, I want to show you
how qu ire things come about, and how
thorn that speaks agin the blessed sod,
tuore or less, are sure of coming in for
their ha’ptirlh of shame one day or an
other. Sir Joseph Yorke was a miniber
of Parliament, and a rolicking fellow lie
was, that thought no more of saving
what kem uppermost in his month, than
you would think of making a howl of
broth out of a hull turkey and a whi*|>
of cabbage. Well, this Sir Joseph
Yorke once took it into his mild noggin
to tell them in the llnusn of Commons,
that there was only one way to settle
Ireland—and what way do von think
that was? I suppose poor sow Is, you
think lie told them to send us over plenty
to eat and to drink, and enough of mo
ney to swear hy, and something over.—
Jt's there you're out, every mother’s son
of you. No such thought was upon him;
but I'll tell you what ho fold them.—
•’ Take Ireland, says lie (just as if it
was a sod of turf, or a lump ol a stone,
or a dead dog) “ and souse it under the
water of the sea lor funr-and-twenty
hours, and I'll be bound,” says he, slap
ping the table with his dirty hand, “that
when you t ike it up again, it will be as
quiet as a mouse.” Och! then, hoys,
uid yon ever hear the like o’ that since
the creation of the world 1 Sure enough
you’d he as quiet as mice il you were
buried under water for half the time;
hut you sec he forgot in regard of the
church, that it wasn’t in him to drown
the Holy rhurrh, which couldn't he
drowned, nr burnt, or turned upside
down, or molested in any manner what
ever, hy him nr any of his sort; and if
he had dared to sink ould Ireland, the
cross of the world would rise up through
the water if it was twice as deep, and
thcclargy would come up along, with it,
and they’d walk over the sea ever until
they’d come to England, and there
they’d make such a tearing ruction about
their ears, that they'd soon be glad to
fish up the place agin, and put it just
where they found it. without as much
as a lint of an ould skreetl of grass up
on it. Well, but what happens this
same Yorke the other day. boys, boys?
Now, I give you leave to guess until
you won’t have as much of a guess left
in you as’d shew the way from this to
Terry Phelan’s blind mill beyont the
bridge. Why, w hat do you think should
happen him, hut that instead of drown
ing ould Ireland, which he couid’nt
drown, an’ let him try his best, he was
drowned himself th’other day as easy
and complete as you please, while he
was out pleasing himself in the “middle
ol as line a morning as ever was seen
in the habitual globe. Not a word of
lie I’m telling you, hut the plain truth,
and isn’t it tlirue for me, after this ter
rible lesson, that them that speaks ill of
the country will come to the had at last.
Down he went like a brick-hat from an
ould house that was tumbling, and there
was no more heard of him, of course,
by reason of his being drownded entire
ly. Isn't that to teach you how you
lend yourselves to speeches and hard
words upon the mother of you all, and
to prove that it isn't for the likes of you i
to turn traitors, when even them that |
are not belonging to you at all arn't safe j
in their beds, or in the road, or on the
land, or the water, bv day or by night,
w hen they throw the dirty slander upon
the blessed sod. Sure when the poor
wanderer that suffered for many a long
day in foreign places kem home in the
long run, and his people would'nt know
him, or help him, or do a kind turn for
hint, because they got round, and turn
ed their backs upon auld times, tlie inur
nan kum inunei *. teltr upon the cattle
of them, and the children died away like
rotten stalks, and the ould fell sick, and
there wasn’t as much as a tester left to
bury them, nor a sowl to keen over the
dead. And here’s the song of the poor
crethur that kuin home, and was refused
a bit of bread at the door—it's all from
Scripture, boys, and as thrue as you’re
there
“Ireland'* eye I—the world'# wun
lhnr!
” Roorkt’a daughter that was married
to Thuntlicr I”
Roorke, you see, was the man that *hut
the door in the poor craliiin's face.
” Ireland’s rye I”—[l’m reading it a-
Ifin.] —” the world's svunthrrl
Roorkr's daughter that was married to
Thuntlicr t
I railed down to see you, neighbours,
nigh the sea brink,
But not one among you had the good
ness tor to oiler me a drink.”
That'* a parable, Mrs. Doyle, and I’m
glad to see the tears stand in’ in your
•yet upon the hearing or it. Never a
curse of the kind will kuin upon you rl
you only do whxl’l fight, and shame the
divil.
The next thing I have to say to you
—and ) hope you'll pay attention to tne
—[l don't care if I do help you out with
that same side of bacon that’s bieaking
its heart in the chimney these three
months, Hliamat Langsii—mind to tend
me a piece soon, by way of a sample.]
What was I going to say ? Ay, so I was.
Well, yon know, boys, there's a general
election all over the country, and the
kings writs ate coming down to us :<s
fast a* beast can carry them, and every
man that has a vote in the place is to
come forward and vote for the king.
Now isn't it the wonder of the wotld
to hear me, Father Murphy, that's teach*
ing you these five-and-twenty years, be
same more or less, that it wa lawful and
proper in you all to do what you pleas-1
ed to any king, except the Pope and
Dan O'Connell, that you happened to
catch alter nlghtfal—isn't it wonderful,
I say. to haar me telling you to give
three cheers for the king ; and what's
more than that, nine cheers for the
queen; and as many as you choose for
the constitution Y Isn't it as much as to
tav that Prince tloheulo has wrought
some blessed miracle upon the country ;
and. like Aaron's rod, that made five
g.dlons of ra.d poteen run down like’
wjti-r from tire top of & big rock, when
a whole heap of poor Catholics were fa
mishing below, that I’m after pointing
the tip of my little linger at the king,
and the queen, and the cabinet council,
and making them overflow with plenty
and I rsliins* of the best of every thing?
Sure you wouldn't believe it, only you
see it. Then I'll tell you what it is.—
The Millenium’s come. May be you
don’t know what the Millenium is ?-
Hard for yon, iny dear children, when
beef is four pence-half penny a pound,
and you can’t get better vegetables than
the tops of the-potatoes. How could
you tell the Millenium from any other
common Sunday in the vein ? Ilut ne
ver mind going too deep into it. It’s
not for the likes of you to he bothering
yourselves with such abstiusc mathemat
ics as that.
Well, now that the General Election's
come, and that the Mille.nmm is upon
its, laird save us, before we know where
we are, just like Mrs. Ilagarty’s chris
tenings, every nine months— [oh ! I see
you, Hryan, you needn't he trying to
duck your head behind Tim Fanaliy—
are my hoots done yet? To be sure
they're not. Where do yon expect lo
go when von die? To purgatory of
course. Tiotli, if you don’t send me
home the same hoots before breaklasl
to-morrow morning, I'll write off about
you to-night, and make them keep the
door barred and bolted for your sake.]
I say now is the time for you all, boys
honey, to show yourselves men. Stand
up for your rights, ami remember that
there isn’t one of you that may not, one
day or another, have a monument of
real marble with your name upon it in
letters of gold. Think of that, Myles
IS icily, with your one eye, and hould up
your head like a pathriot.
I've just got a letter from the Pope,
in which his Holiness expressly desires
me in I .at ill to hould a jubilee when the
election’s over, and to give an indulgence
for a year and a day to every one of you
that votes for Iteforin. And never lenr
hut I'll do it. and welcome; and if the
hit of paper happens to he worn out in
the red waistcoats of you before the
year is fairly over, sure if you behave
yourselves 1 might give yon another bit
of paper that’d carry you on through
the winter after next, so that the wolld’d
he wondering at the good luck you’d
have. IIhI in regard to the Reform, I’ll
tell you what that is before 1 go any
further.
Come over, Luke Mulloney, ‘till I
have a hit of goster with you. What
do you call that dirty looking thing like
a shoeing horn, you’ve got between your
finger and thumb, as if you were afraid
it’ud burn you ? Spake up that the con
gregation may hear you.
Luke. This your reverence ?
Father Murphy. You’re mighty ’cute
at a guess, Luke:—that’s exactly what
1 mean.
Luke. IMusha ! Sure it's my oldcau
been.t your rrvprcuer.
Father Murphy. And what’s be
come of the crown of it Luke?
Luke. Is it the kiver you’re mean
ing? Troth then, your reverence, that’s
more than myself could till you. It’s
inanv a long day since the kiver and 1
parted company, and never a saw 1 saw
it since.
Father Murphy. And what’s the use
of it upon the head of yo, Luke, when
it won't keep out the wet ?
Luke. Och ! salvation to me, your
reverence, if ever 1 put it on my head
at all.
Father Murphy. And what do you
do with it, Luke ?
Luke. Why, then, don’t I carry it in
my fist on a Sunday to the chapel, your
reverence, for the dacrncy of it ?
Father Murphy. And you carry the
brogues in tb'other hand, Luke?
Luke. Not a word of lie in it. Sir ;
the brogues would’l be worth picking
out of the dirt, if I was to carry them
on my feet. They’d be like a bit of
brown paper in no time, your honor, if
I was to walk upon them.
Father Murphy. But, Luke, you
could get another pair when these would
be done with, and you could buy your
self a nice new hat, with wool a loot long
every lair-day ?
Luke. It’s divnrting yourself with
me, saving your holy presence, your re
verenee is this blessed morning. Where
would I get the means of buying anoth
er pair of brogues, since 1 haven’t as
much money as I could cross myself
with, an’ what’s more, never had.—
Faix, the king’s facts is a stranger tome
unless I see it in a turnip, or an apple
piatee.
Father Murphy. You’re a smart fel
low, Luke, and you'll be a great man
yet. Now. hoys, did you hear what
I.nke said, that he hasen't the means to
buy anew pair of brogues ! Well that’s
the very reason why you’re to vote for
Reform. Jt’siwo pair of hrngueseach,
and plenty of blue cloth coals, with yel
low buttons, and yellow waistcoats, and
buckskin breeches, and blue stockings,
and speckled handkerchiefs, and the
tnischiel and all of things you'll have
upon ye when you get reform. [An
universal hvzx of t conder throughout the
chapel, which esmmunicates to the groups
outside, and when it has made the circuit
of the multitude fro tee into one loud,
long shout fo>’ his rtt-etente.] Asy, asy,
boys—hush! now that'll do—l haven't
done with reform yet. There’s Mr. Ca
hill that keeps the academy over agaiost
the slate qnatry.—(l see you. Mr. Ca
hilk don’t lie ashamed of your good
works, and leave off drawing the nails
out of vour fingers with your teeth.)—
Now, Mr. Cahill isn’t able to pul a roof
to his college, where you get ihe best of
learning for a little or nothing. But
when the reform is settled, there isn't a
slate in the whole quarry that won’t be
mounted on the top of the place; and
Mr. Cahill himsalf, and lie's deserving
o’ it, will have a garron* for the woman
that owns him, and be able to keep a
cow. and may lie have a little eorner in
ihe haggard for a still of his own
That's what reform will do for you— but
don't shout yet.
You remember the time that the every
one of you that eould stick a spade in
the ground was a freeholder. Well, (he
time is coming when yon'll all have
votes again, and more than that, when
the child that's coining home shall have
* vote, if you can only swear that yon're
sure it'ill be a hor-found that Mrs.
RorWe, and I wish you an easy time of
it.)
Now, don’t you thinks worth whileio j
get enough lo eat and drink, without
putting yourselves to the trouble oI go- 1
mg to sea in the harvest-time to look for
work ? To he sure sure you do, I’ll an
swer for you. Well, when you get re
form, the corn will he growing up under
your feet, and before you can turn
round it’ll he baked into loaves for you;
there’ll he more potatoes in the country
than you can eat. and you'll be obliged
to give them to the pigs, for fear they’d
lake root over again, and runaway with
the land from you : and as to the poul
try, the sheep, and the drop of diink,
troth I’m thinking its proud and lazy
you’ll he getting with the plenty that'll
be staring you out of countenance.—
Never a ’ruction will you have, but n
mongst yourselves. As to the lithe
proctors, they’ll bury themselves with
thci own tools, and you’ll never he put
out of yo'ir way again by one of t be dir
ty blackguards. All the schools that
come down from Kildare St. will fall a
way like dust; and vou'll never hear ol
a bishop except llishop Doyle and my
self, for with a blessing and my health
to wear it. I’ll he a bishop then. In
regard to the police they'll all go hack to
England, for you know they’re not na
tural lo us, even the-best of them. As
to the matter of rents, the landlords will
all come begging and beseeching ol yon
to keep your little tenements, ami to
take as much land as you can ride over
in a day’s walk, and they'll leave the
price entirely to your own honour, so
that you can have your holding as cheap
as dirt. Then you’ll have no clergy to
pay but your own ; and you may send
your children where you like ; and you'll
consume all your own eggs, and butter,
and beef, and pork, instead of sending
them out of the country to get money
for your rack-rents, and leaving your
selves, like the robin redbreasts, in the
w inter, without a morsel of food to keep
the sign of life in ye.
But you’re wondering all this time
why I don’t say something about the
rapnle. If von weren’t a set of gossoons,*
you'd know veiy well that the lapale
is throning after reform, just like my
dog Pincher, that’s eternally treading
on the heels of my ould horse. Go
where I will, Pincher’s after me—and so
is the rapale of the Union after the re
form. Troth it's as fast upon reform as
if it was its shadow. Do you think Dan
O’Connell doesn’t know what he’s n
hout ? I.et him alone, and you’ll see
how shy lie’ll make them look, just as if
they’d lost their tails. Hut, mind what
I’m saying to you. You’re not lo let
out one word about the rapale , until af
ter the elections ; for Dan is so deep
that he’ll first catch the Orangemen in
a trap, and w hen he has them there, I’ll
give you leave to go three weeks without
niass, and to miss the Easter dues, if he
doesn’t pin them to th empale. And
won’t you do what Dan bids you ? As
certain as the flowers in May, you’ll all
be gentlemen and ladies when the, rapale
comes. You’ll have your own horses,
and your own cattle, and you’ll have
your own Parliament that won’t betray
ye, but that’ll just do whatever you
please, and clap all the loose hands into
the Exercise, and the fat of the land will
be flowing upon you like new milk.—
Oh! what a mmthering country will
Ireland be, when sve’ve got the rapale.
I’ll be bound there isn’t one of you now
tint won’t be going up to Dublin alien
the patliarment's sitting, and, when
you’re away, the soil will be running
mad with all the crops that’ll be break
ing their necks growing up so fast for
you, against you come back. And may
be you won’t come home with new
gowns for the wives, and stockings for
the children, and the world knows what
all, of ribbands, and rings, and brooches.
(Don't be tittering, Mary Ryan; it’s all
in store for you, and the sooner the bet
ter, Indeed, you’ll he picking your
steps, yet, like a kitten i:i a shower of
rain.)
You sec, hoys, the sense of the thing
is this. We must first get reform; we
must put out nil the Orangemen at the
elections. Well when we’ve done that,
the king is to ask Dan what he’ll have
next, and Dan is to say, that he leaves
it entirely to himself; hut that's only
making pretence, for immediately after
that Dan is to make a great speech,
you'll see it at full length in the Regis
ter, if you’ve grace—and then Ihe next
news will be that Dan is to have it all
his own way, and to get the royal com
mand, as it were, to have a parliament
in Dublin, and then all the true gentry
’ll come forward, and neter was such a
sight seen in the memory o| man as
lliere’ll be that day in Ireland. That’s
the reason that Dan is keeping himself
so quiet, for fear he’d spoil w hat’s cmn
ing.—(‘7’Arre cheers for Dan'—a sim
ultaneous cry from the multitude.)
And do you think, when you’ve a par
liament of your own, that there’ll be
such doings at the elections as there was
ia the ould times? No such thing.—
Never a man will shew his face that
isn’t a friend to the people. There’ll
be no soldiers to keep you from voting
for youi own friend, anil there'll be no
landlords to drive you out if von vote
against them. Besides, you're to vote
all as one as if every body’s eyes were
shut, and nobody could see w ho yon vo
ted foi : so that there'll be nothing but
fair play, and fair pluy’s jewil. Then,
instead of voting as yon do now, every
four or five yeais, you’ll have a vole
every year, or oftener, may he ; for our
parliament will he like a bed of onions,
it ’ll last till the year’s out, and then
you’ll sow the seed again. (When's
the wedding to he, Paddy Farrel? It
isn’t clear tome, Imtynu'in teasing the
soul out of Ihe little girl for nothing at
all. I’ll he after coining down to you
to morrow night, so mind and Invc the
kettle schreeching on the hob at eight
o'clock, you devil!)
Now.lmys after whit I've told you.
what'ill you vote for? For the lives of
ye. don’t say, when you're asked the
question, that you'll vote lor Ihernpu/r,
yet a while—hut aay that you vote for
reform. That’s the word. May he
there’s some of ve never heard of re
lorni before? Then the ntnrr'a your
merit lor making much it it nnw. &ure
•t’a a token you've the true faith in you.
St Peter voted forrefnim. and this is
St. Peter’s parish, and the chapel you're
standing in, for there's no sens for ye
to wit upon—all in good time (or the
seats any way ! this chapel is built on
rack, and so is nurrhtich ; snd that’s
another reason why you should vote sot
reform. Only it’ud be demeaning him.
Rt. Peter would come down among ye,
and vole for Dhii just like one of your
selves. without the least pride, for he’s
no upstart: only you see its mighty busy
lie is, luit he’s watching you for all that; I
and there's never a one of you that gives ’
a wrong vote that lie won’t remember it,
when von’re coming to him to beg ol
him to show you the short cut to purga- j
lory, to save you going round. And
now, boys, disperse yourselves quietly
and keep the tongue in the mouths of
ye, in regard to w hut I told you this day.
The mother of oil the saints be with
you this night. It s myself that morti
fied myself ikiyaiul night for your sakes,
hut my kingdom's before me, and the
trouble’s.i pleasure when we get our re
wardforit’ Vote for reform boys. It’ll
be as good as board and lodging for noth
ing for you. It’ll put the clothesnn your
back, and the bread in your mouths, and
it’ll make old Ireland ns free as if she
was nothing hut a butterfly flying for the
hare life, for ever and ever through the
air. Three cheers for reform, boys, and
then go your ways ns I bid you. (Three
cheers accordingly.) Come back, you
spalpeens, is that the way you’re slink
ing off with yourselves? It’s lately
come lo ve to forget l)an ! (A roar , arul
n multitudinous number of cheers for
Dan.) Hullabaloo ! and you're off again
like shot out of a shovel. Come back
again, I tell you, and look at me. Oh !
I suppose there’snobodyelsethat’sthat’s
deserving of a cheer. Now, I'm burned,
but I b'lieve you think you’re all reform
ers complete, and that the world wide
couldn’t match you fortlie laming. But
who enlightened you upon it ? who told
you that the millennium was come, and
(The idea is corn'll t up by the grate
ful auditory, and before, the priest can
finish the sentence, an indiscrible tumuli
of voices transmits the name, of Father
Murphy to the astonished icelkin.)
* YJ,p hyperbole of abundance.
t Hat.
* Iforse.
* An Irish equivalent for garcoii, con
veying, in addition, as occasion may re
quire. the reproach of foolishness.
FOREIGN.
From the Truth Teller.
Our intelligence from London reach
es to the evening of the 19th lilt.—the
;i( counts from Poland was as far as they
go, of a cheering nature. The Nation
al Government had published a circular
relative to flic battle of Ostralenka, in
which no disposition is manifested to
disguise the loss they had sustained, but
the amount is lower than was stated in
the repoits received by the late arrival.
The loss of the late Polish army is said
not to have exceeded two thousand.
The army is reposing and reinforcing at
Praga, whence the brave Skrzynecki
issues his bulletins and circulars, ex
pressed in language which breathes any
tiling but diminished confidence and
courage. The losson the Russian side,
at the battle of Ostralenka, is variously
stated, and probably al! thenccounts are
more or less exaggerated. A Berlin
paper, speaking of the report which es
timated it at 1 5,000, says, “ this version
may appear exaggerated ; but upon con
sidering the exhausted state of the Rus
sian army, previous to the battle, and
the valiant defence of the Poles, it can
surprise no one that the lossof the former
should be very considerable. In order
to make his projected attack, Diebitsch
made a forced march of 9 German miles
in 21 hours, and upon coming up to the
Polish troops be commenced immediate
ly the engagement, w hich lasted sixteen
hours without intermission. The Field
Marshal lost during the battle, an im
mense unrulier of his soldiers, w ho were
either killed by the fire of the Poles, or
drowned in nn attempt twtni aciossthe
river. Thus situated, nt the head of an
exhausted armv, without either ammu
nition or provisions, and expecting every
moment to be attacked on the other side
bv Gen, Gielgud, who had crossed the
Narew, and might sally out upon him
from Lomza, (Jen. Diebitsch was com
pelled to retreat from Ostralenka. This
retrogade movement was begun nn the
‘Bth, the bride near Ostrolenka was
immediately burnt, and the whole town
was shortly after reduced to a heap of
ashes. On the 29th, not a single Rus
sian was to be seen on the right bank of
the Nare-v. The Russians suffered also
much from their own artillery, which
kept firing on Ostrolenka, long alter
(hey had taken possession of that town.
By an official letter of Sckrvnecki to
the national Government dnied from
Praea, June 2d., it appears that upon
the very day when the troops under his
immediate command, so gallantly resist
llie immense superior numbers of Die
bitsch, another corps of the Polish army
were conducting with equal gallantry
and better success, in the neighborhood
ol Naraiveka. Gen. Chlapowiski at
tacked a body of Russians, consisting of
two regiments of infantry and one of
cavalry, in the night, and w ilh such suc
cess that the Russian corps was entirely
surrounded, defeated, and the greater
part taken prisoners. The insurgents in
the vicinity of Narewka were greatly
encouraged by the appearance of the
Polish force; and insurrections in vari
ous parts of the Russian provinces were
spreading and becoming daily more for
midable.
The Knglish news is not important,
rhe new Parliament met on the 14th
til l imo, hut public business was not ex
pected to commence until the Cist. The
reform bill would probatly be the first
measure taken up, and some efforts in
Ihe House of Lords to defeat it were an
ticipated. The distress in Ireland had
awakened the sympathy of the whole
Brnisli people, and extensive subscrip
tions for their relief were in progress
The prosecutions against O’Connell and
others had been dropped in consequence
of the expiration of the act tinder which
they were instillited, by the dissolution
of Parliament. The Attorney General
for lieland had given public notice to
this effect.
Appointments by the President Lou
is Me Lane, of Delaware, to b Hecreta
rv ol the I reasuty of the United Htates,
Martin Van Burrn, of New-York. to he
Minister Plenipotentiary of the United
State* to Great Biitain. Aaron Vail,
o( New-York, lob# Hrcretary of Lf*
gatinn to Great Britain, in the place of
Washington Irving, who ha* signified
his wish to retire from that station.
DOMESTIC. {
fatract rnm ,
MR. CALHOUN'S SENTIMENTS.
The question of the relation, winch
the Slates and General Government bear
to each other, is not one of recent origin.
From the commencement of our system,
it has divided public sentiment. Even
in the conveiitiuu, while the Constitution
was struggling into existence, there were
two parties,as to w hat ihi*- relation should
he, whose different sentiments, constitu
ted no small impediment in torming that
instrument. Alter ihe General Govern
ment went into operation, experience
soon proved, that the question had not
terminated with the labours of thecon
vention. The great struggle, that pre
ceetled the political revolution of 1901,
which brought Mr. Jefferson into power,
turned essentially on it; and the doc
trines and arguments on both sides were
embodied and ably sustained ; on the
one, in the Virginia and Kentucky reso
lutions, and tile report to the Virginia
Legislature; and on the oilier, in the
replies of the Legisl ture of Massachu
sett ■ and some of the other stales. These
resolutions and this report, with the de
cision of the Supreme Court of Penn
sylvania about the same time, (particu
larly in the case of Cobbett, delivered
by Chief Justice M’Kean and concurred
in by the whole bench,) contain what I
believe to he, the true doctrine on this
important subject. —I refer to them, in
order to avoid ihe necessity of presenting
my views, with the reasons in support ol
them, in detail.
As my object is simply to state my
opinions, I might pause with ibis refer
ence to documents, that so fully and
ably slate all of the points immediately
connected with this deeply important
subject, but as there are many, w ho may
not have ihe opportunity, or leisure to
refer to them, and is it is possible how
ever clear they may be, that different
persons may place different interpreta
tions on their meaning. I will, in order,
that my sentiments may lie fully known,
and to avoid all ambiguity, proceed to
stMe summarily the doctiines, which I
concr.jve they embrace.
Their g.pat and leading principle is
that the General government emanated
from the people of the several states,
forming distinct political cornu.unities,
and acting in their separate and sove
reign capacity, and not from all of the
people forming one aggregate political
community ; that the Constitution of the
United States is in fact a compact, to
which each State is a party, in the char
acter already described ; arid that the
several States nr parties, have a right to
judge of its infractions, and in case of
a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous
exercise of a power not delegated, they
have the right, in the last rcsoit, to use
the language of the Virginia resolutions,
“ to interpose for arresting the progress
of the evil, and for maintaining u-ithin
their respective limits, the authorities,
rights, and liberties apjrertaining to
them.” ‘I his ‘ight of interposition,
thus solemnly asserted by the State of
Virginia, be it called what it may, state
right veto, nullification, or by any other
name, I conceive to Lethe fundamental
principle of our system, lesiirig on facts
historically as certain, as our revolution
itself, and deductions, as simple and
demonstrative, as that of any political,
or moral truth whatever; and I firmly
believe that on its recognition depends,
the stability and safety of our political
institutions.
I am not ignorant, that those opposed
to the doctrine have always, now and
formerly regarded it in a different light as
an anarchical and revolutionary. Could
I believe such in lact to be its tendency,
to me it would lie no recommendation.
I \ icld to none, I trust, in a deep and
sinceie attachment to our political insti
tution*. and the Union of these States.
I never breathed an opposite sentiment;
hut on the contrary, 1 have ever consid
ered them the great instruments of pre
serving our liberty, and promoting the
happiness of ourselves and our posterity;
and next to those, I have ever held them
most dear. Nearly half my life has
passed in the servicer f the Union, and
whatever public reputation I have ac
quired, is indissolubly identified with it.
To be too national has, indeed, been
considered by many, even of my fiiends,
to be my greatest political fault- With
these strong feelings of attachment, I
have examined with the utmost care,
the bearing of the doctrine in question ;
in question ; and so far from anarchial,
or revolutionary. I solmnly believe it to
be, ihe only solid foundation of our
system, and of the Union itself, and
that the opposite doctrine, which denies
to the States the right of protecting
•heir reserved powers, and which would
vest in the General Government, (it
matters not through what Department,)
the right of determining exclusively and
finally the powers delegated to it, is in
compatible with the sovereignty of the
States, and of the Constitution itself,
considered a* the basis of a Federal
Union. As strong as this language is
it is not stronger, ‘ban that used bv the
illustrious Jefferson who said, to give to
the General Government the final and
exclusive right to judge of its powers is
to make “ its discretion and not the Con
stitution the measures of its powers
and that “ in all cases of compact between
parties having no common Judge, each
party has an equal right to jndge for
itself, as well of the operation, as of the
mode and measure of redress.” Lan
guage cannot he more explicit; nor cat.
higher authority he adduced.
That different opinions are entertained
on this subject, I consider, hut us an ad
ditional evidence of the great diversity
of the human intellect. Had not able,
experienced and patriotic individuals,
for whom I have the highest respect,
taken different views, I would have
thought the right too clear to admit of
doubt; but I an taught by this, as well
e* ny many similar instances, to treat
with deference opinions differing front
w'hh’m"’ i^V" 0 ; ‘"** P° H,bl J bo
with me ; but, if 10 , | can onlv say, that
alter the most mature and conscientious
examination. I have not been able to
detect it. But with all proper (lef , ( .
• nee. I must think, that theirs is the er
ror. who deny, what seems to be an es
sentnl attribute of the conceded sove
lo th".'r° f ,h ” | S A* ,M 5 “ nd w, '° a " r ’ b ‘e
to the General Government a right ut
terly incompatible with what all nc
knowledge to be it* limited and restricted
laracter; an error originating prinei
pally, as 1 must think, in r.ot drily re
flecting outlie nature of our institutions
and on w hat constitute* he only rational
object of all political Constitutions.
It has been well said by one us the
most sagacious men of antiquity, that
the object of a Constitution is to restrain
tire Government, as that of laws is to
restrain individuals. The remark is
correct, nor is it less true, where the
Government is vested in a single or a
few individuals, in a republic, than a
monarchy or aristocracy. No one can
have a higher respect for the maxim,
that the m.ijoiity ought to govern, than
1 have, taken in its proper sense, subject
to the restrictions imposed by (lie Con
stitution and confined to subjects, in
which every portion of the community
have similar interests; but it is a great
error to tuppose, as many do, that the
right of a majority to govern is a natu
ral and not a conventional right; and,
therefore, absolute and unlimited. Hy
nature every individual has the right to
govern himself; and Governments, whe
ther founded on majorities, or minor
ities, must derive their light from the
assent, expressed or implied, of the
governed, and be subject to such lim
-1 nations as they may impose. \\ here the
! interests are Ihe same, that is where
i tlie laws that may benefit one, will
ibe nfit all, or the reverse, it is just
j and proper to place them under the
j control of the majority; but where they
| are disnimilar, so that the law, that may
j benefit one portion, may be ruinous to
1 another, it would be on the contrary un
just and absurd lo subject them to its
will; and such, I conceive to be the
1 theory on which our Constitution rests.
That such dissimilarity of interests
may exist, it is impossible to doubt.
! They are to be found in every comma
’ nity, in a greater, or less degree, how
ever small, or homogeneous• and they
! constitute, every where, the great iliffi
| culty of forming, and preserving free
[ institutions. To guard against Ihe
: unequal action of the laws, when appli
ed to dissimilar and opposing interests,
1 is in fact, what mainly reutb-rs a consti
i tutiou indispensihle ; to overlook which,
j in reasoning nn our oivn Constitution,
; would beto omit the principal element,by
: which to determine its character.—
Were there no contrariety of interests,
I nothing would be more simple and easy
1 than to form and preserve free iiistiiu
lionS. The right of suffrage alone
would be n sufficient gunrrantr. It is
the conflict oi’ opposing interests which
renders it the most difficult work of man.
Whore the diversity of inteiesls exists
in separate and distinct classes of the
| community, as is the case in Englai.’d,
• art,'! “as formerly the ease in Sparta,
1 Rome, and most cf ‘be free States of
I antiquity, tiie rational constitutions’
| provision is, that each should be repre-
I sented ill tlie Government, as a separate
! estate, with a distinct voice, and a neg
j ative on the acts of its co-estales, in or
der to check their encroachments. In
{England, the constitution lias assumed
expressly this form; while in the Gov
| ernmenls of Spana and Rome the same
, thing was effected under different but :
not much less efficacious forms. The ‘
perfection of their organization, in this |
particular, was that which gave to the
Constitution of these renowned States
all of their celebrity, which secured
their liberties for so many ceritiuios and
raised them to so great a height of pow
er and prosperity. Indeed, a constitu
tional provision giving to the great and
separate interests of the community the
right of self-protection, must appear to j
these who will duly reflect on the subject,
not less essential to the preservation of |
liberty, than the right of suffrage itself,
they in fact have a common object, to
effect which, the one is necessary as the
other; to secure responsibility, that is.
that those who make and erecute the laws
should be accountable to those, on whom [
the laws in reality operate ; the only solid
and durable foundation of liberty. If, i
w.ihout the right of suffrage, our rulers
would oppress us, so, without the light of
self-protect ion, the major would equally
oppress the minor interests of the com
munity. The absence of the former
would make the governed tlie slaves of
the riders, and of the latter, the feebler
interests the victim of the stronger.
Happily fur us, we have no artificial
ami separate classes of society. We
have wisely exploded all such distinc
tions; hut we ate not, on that account,
exempt from all contrariety of interests,
as the present distracted and dangerous
condition of our country, unfortunately,
hut too clearly proves. With us they
are almost exclusively geographical, re
sulting mainly from differenced climate,
soil, situation, industry and production,
but are not, therefore, less neccssarv to
be protected by an adequate constitution
al provision, titan where the distinct in
terests exist in separate classes. The
necessity is, in truth, greater, as such
separate and dissimilar geographical in
terests, are more liable to come into con
flict, and more dangerous when in that
state, than those ol any other description;
so much so, that ours is the first instance
on record, where they have not formed in
an ertensive territory, separate and inde
pendent communities, or subjected the
whole to desjwlic sway. —That such may
not lie our unhappy ‘fate also, must oe
the sincere prayer us every lover of his
country.
So nilmtrout & diversified are the in
lereMa of our country, Hint they could
not he fairly represented in a single gov
ernment, organized so, as to give to
each great and leading interests, a sepa
rate uml distinct voice, as in the Govern
ments to which I have referred, A plan
was then adopted better suited to our
situation, hut perfectly upvel in its char
acter. ‘I lie powers of the Government
were divided, not as heretofore, in ref-
to classes, hut geographically.
One General Government was formed
lor the w hole, to which was delegated ull
the powers supposed to be necessary to
regulate the. interests common to all ol
(lie States, leaving other* subject to the
separata control of Ilia States, being
from their local and peculiar character,
such, that they could not h subject to
the will of the majority of the whole
rninn, without the certain liazzard of
injustice and oppression. It was thus,
that the interests of the whole were sub
jected, as they ought to he, to the will of
the whole, while the peculiar and local
interests were left under the control of
the States separately, to whose custody
mdy. they could he safely confided.—
this distribution of power, settled so
lemnly hr a constitutional compact, tq
wli'.e|i al! of the Rtales ate parties, com
Mitii 1 t-w the pet nliar character and e\c,j
lence of our political system. luis truV.
and emphatically Amerieun, icithout n’
ample or parallel.
To realize its perfection, we miw
view the General Government am) ,i ,
States as a whole, each in its ()ro ‘®
sphere, sovereign and independent, eacl
perfectly adapted to their respective ol,’
jeets ; the States acting sepaiatcly,
resenting and protecting the local’ ]
peculiar inteiesls; acting jointly,
one General Government, with i|,.
weight respectively assigned to each U
the Constitution, representing and | )rn .
tecting the inteicst of the whole ; nJ
thus peifeeling by an admirable, ij
simple arrangement, the great piimipi,
of representation and esponsihilit.
without which no government can I’
free or just. To preserve Ibis sacterf
distribution, ns originally settled, bv co
ercing each to move in its preseiil, tl j
orb, is the great and difficult problem
on the solution of which, the duration
of our Constitution, of Union, and, j„
all probability, our liberty depend?__
Ilow is this to be affectedf
The question is new, when applied tv
om peculiar political organization whtn>
the separate and conflicting interests of
society are represented by distinct, but
connected Governments ; but is in real-
I ity an old question under anew fo rrt ,
| l‘>iig *ice | eifcctly solved. Whenev'u
separate and dissimilar interests have
been separately represented in any Go
vernment ; whenever the sovereign po„.
er has been divided in its exercise, the
experience and wisdom of ages hav'c de
j vised but one mode, by which such m!
, litical organization can be preserved’
) the mode adopted in England, and by
all Governments ancient and n.odern
blessed with Constitutions deserving t u ’
lie called free; to give to each co-estsin
the right to judge of its powers, wiff 4
negative or veto on the acts of the oth
ers, in order to protect against encroach
ments, the interest it particularly repre
sents ; a principle which all of our Con
stitutions recognize in the distribution
of power among their icspectiie D e .
partments, as essential to maintain t|, (
! independence nf each, but w Inch to all,
J who will duly reflect on the subject’
! must appear, far more essential, fi„ the
j same object, in that great and lunda
mental distitbiitidn of powers between
the Rtales and the General Government
■'(> essential is the principle that to
w ithhold the right Iron) either, w here the
sovereign pow er i< divided, is in
annul the division itself, and tn antoli
date in llieune, left rn Ik- exclusive pw.
session of the right, all of the power*of
| the Government; for it is not pussib,>
| to distinguish, practically, betwrrM
I Government hating U H power, and it#
one having the right to take wind potttfi
it pleases. Nor does it in the least u r
the principle, whether the distributisn
of power be between co-estates, ase
England, or between distinctly orgai
iz.ed, but connected Governments, a
with us. The reason is the same#
both cases, while the necessity isgrea-
J er in our case, as the danger of conflict
’ is greater, where the interests of nog.
J ety are divided geographically, dm
in any other, as has already beensliem
These truths do seem to me to be in
controvertible; and I am at a loss to us
derstanJ lioiv any one, who has maim?,
ly reflected on the nature ol our msii
tutions, or w ho has read histoiy, or as
died the principles of free Government,-
to any purpose, can call them in ques
tion. The explanation must, it appeal#
’ to me, be sought iu the fact, that iiicve
ly free State, there are those who boll
; moie to the necessity of iiirui.taiaing
l power, than guarding against i's al uses.
Ido not intend reproach, but simplyte
i state a f.icl, apparently necessary,tod
plain t lie contrariety of opinions among
the intelligent, where the abstract cob
siilciation of the subject would >enu
scarcely to admit ol doubt. If suoht*
the true cause, I must tli.uk the leai t. B
weakening the Government too wucii ■
in Ibis case to be in a great tnrastnr me B
founded, or at least, that the grcatdu-B
get is much less from that, than tlietfß
posile side, Ido not deny that apn ■
er, of so high a nature may be aliused
by a State; but, when I reflect that fir
States unanimously called the (jtnrni
Government into existence with all if
its powers, which they freely surtcmie
ed on their part, under the convirtiw
that their common peace, safely hi
prosperity required it; that they an I
bound together by a common origin. mm
the recollection of a common iriuniyt
in the great and splendid achievement!
of their independence; ami that tbrl
strongest feelings of our nature, it’ll
among them the love of national pol
and distinction, are on t|ie side ol twl
Union ; it does seem to me, that il*|
fear which w ould strip the states ol th**|
sovereignty and degrade them, iitfiftl
lo mere dependent corporation), Ml
they should abuse a right iidi*pen*i^J
• o the peaceable protection of those
lerests, which they reserved umlffli ,< *l
own peculiar guardianship, when
created the General Government,i!)*!
natural and unreasonable. If tMI
wlm volmilnrily created the system.
not lie trusted to preserve it, what
er can ? I
8o far from extreme danger,
that there never was a lice stale, in wbidH
this conservative principle, indisp****’
hie in all, was ever so safely loilpd”
In others, when the co-estalrr. t'P*’
the dissimilar und connrciaj
interests of the community earn* r**
contact, the only alternative ai m*
promise, submission, or force. N 01 ’
tu ours. Should the General G# M ®
inent. and a siaterotue into conflict. •*
have .1 higher remedy; lhepee* r
called the General Government h* lo ' 1 ’
istence, which gave it all of
ty, and can enlarge, contract, nr
its powers at its pleasure, may h* l( *
ked. The Suites themselves a l '?' 1
appealed to, three fourths ol which.
lacl, lortn a power, whose decree* t”
the Constitution itself, and whose
can silence all discontent. The wlfjj
extent then of the power is, that a - 1
acting in its sovereign capacity.
of the parties to the Constitutions!'*
pact, may compel the GoveiM**
created by that compact, to soto"’
question touching its infraction, **’
patties who created it ; to avoid the*
posed dancers of which, it ** l !r °!*
to resort to the novel, tho
I must add, fatal project of gi’W ,
the General Government the *°! e
final right of interpreting the
t'on, thereby reversing the who**