But the leaning on authority is not yet sufficient; we are to be defeated not only by concurrence, but difference of opinion, as the following paragraph proves:
“I cannot refrain from remarking that these gentlemen, (Messrs. Tyler and Leigh,) both professing to maintain the true and orthodox doctrines of ‘Instruction,’ and exerting their powerful and cultivated intellects to explain them through many a labored column, at last bring themselves to opposite conclusions on the same case. Is it possible to give a more impressive illustration and evidence of the fallacy of the whole faith than that two such men, both indoctrinated in the same school, should, when brought to the practical application of their principles, so differ about their import and obligation?”
I should humbly conceive it proved the fallacy of that faith which holds that a senator cannot be wrong. Two senators “come to opposite conclusions upon the same case,” and it proves not as simple mortals would suppose, that one must be wrong, but that the legislature is wrong. If their difference only proves error in some one else, we cannot wonder at the vast estimation in which senators are held by their admirers. But their difference is not so great as supposed. One says I cannot obey, and, therefore, I resign now; the other says you want me to resign, but I will not now, but at the beginning of next session. Here is the same conclusion from the same case. Mr. Leigh postponed, but why will he resign at last? He gives no reason, but the instructions, and no one has suggested any other. He must resign on account of the disagreeable feelings produced by the peculiar position of being a misrepresenting representative. Those feelings are required and expected by our theory in the bosoms of all conscientious senators. So even the difference which was to destroy us, is one of time—not of principle. As to the argument that some of the voters of last year gave contrary instructions the year before, if true,—it does not prove them less worthy of respect now than then,—indeed, the last being the more deliberate, is the more worthy opinion; and as Mr. Tyler obeyed the first, a fortiori he was bound to obey the last, or resign.
I have done. Long as I have been with you, I have only touched the most striking points. There are two documents which would have shed light upon the obscurest part of this subject, I mean the letter of ELDRIDGE GERRY to the Massachusetts convention, on the constitution of the senate, and JAMES MADISON'S history of the constitution, and debates of the convention. These were inaccessible, but whenever examined they must confirm the views taken here. Though the Sun of Montpelier has sunk in glory, below the horizon, it will thence shed a brilliant but mellowed light upon its noon-day track, and mystic truths so long hidden by its dazzling brilliancy, may be read by its milder rays, engraven in letters of gold upon the imperishable arch of Heaven. We must abide the coming of that time in mute faith, confiding in what we have already learned from Moses and the prophets; but, if it be no profanity to quote the sacred founder of our religious faith in defence of our hallowed constitution, I would say, “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.”
ROANE.
'TIS THE LAST DAY OF SUMMER.
'Tis the last day of Summer,
Now fading away,
As behind yon blue mountain,
The sun hides its ray;
And the low breeze is sighing,
So chilly and drear,
That, methinks, the wood whispers,
Stern Autumn is near!
'Tis the last day of Summer,
And sad is the smile,
That now lights up the gloom,
Where it lingers awhile;
Whilst the cloud that is wreathing,
So gaily the west,
But reveals by its brightness,
The tempest's dark crest.
'Tis the last day of Summer,
And fleet as its ray
Hath departed, so fleetly,
Doth life speed away!
But beyond this drear gloom,
Is a resting place given,
Where the spirit shall bask,
In the summer of Heaven.
T. J. S.