est perfection, when, each of the various subdivisions or districts adopted for the convenience of election being represented, each delegate should correctly express the will of the popular majority of his own constituency. The legislation would then be the action of each separate local majority, and of the aggregate national majority; while a sufficient safeguard to the rights of the minority would be found — 1, in the sense of justice of the majority, and the interest of each individual composing it to respect those rights which he himself nay, before long, on some other occasion, have to invoke, when himself in a minority;-2, in the fact that the majority of to-day is subject to the appellate jurisdiction of the majority of to-morrow, and that the sceptre of its power is sure to depart from it, if it offend the moral sense of the honest public mind by any marked act of wrong of this character;-3, in the triple sets of agents through the hands of which every measure of legislation must pass, each independent of the other, and each representing different bodies or portions of the common constituency;-4, in the universal freedom of every form of public discussion, giving to a minority in danger of being thus injured or aggrieved, such opportunities of remonstrance, and of appeal to the sense of justice as well as to that of the true permanent interest of the majority, as reduce down to the minimum point of probability all such danger as Mr. Camp thinks it useful to guard against in the anti-republican and antidemocratic mode contended for by him. And suppose it to be conceded that an occasional case may happen, that the constituency giving the instructions may be wrong, and the representative disobeying them right, and that before long the majority of the former should come over to the position of the latter; yet this is a case less likely to happen than the reverse, in which unworthy or interested motives should lead to the abuse of his delegated powers by a representative indifferent to a future reelection, or perhaps despairing of it on other grounds; while, as a general rule, unless Democracy is all wrong ab initio, the paramount authority in the matter may be much more safely trusted to the honest and disinterested intelligence of the popular constituency, than to any individual agent, however prudently he may have been selected at a former day for his post. The chance of his going wrong is at least quite equal to that of error on the part of the majority of the people on the ground of intelligence alone; while on the ground of the possibility of sinister or unpatriotic influences warping the judgment, the danger-a danger of a formidable and mischievous kind is wholly on the side of the individual. - In the case of a senator of the United States receiving instructions from the legislature of his State, we have always so far agreed with Mr. Camp as not to regard the right as absolute and unconditional on the part of the legislature. Both represent the people of the State; and it may be possible that the representation by the senator, on some given occasion, may be more correct than that by the other body, though that is not a a case of very likely occurrence. For example, the matter on which the instructions are given may not have been at all before the people at the time of the election of that body; or, from an unequal distribution of the districts, the minority which voted against the instructions may represent the majority of the people; or some sinister or accidental influences may have carried away the majority in the body, or a portion of them, into an act at variance with the true will of their own constituents. In such cases the senator must judge for himself, under a high responsibility to his State as well as to his conscience. He may disregard the instructions, if he truly and honestly believe that, in doing so, he best carries out the actual will of the whole people of his State. But the instructions are prima facie evidence of that will, which must be conclusive with him, unless he can positively prove the contrary to the satisfaction of his conscientious belief. We have no wish to dwell further on this topic, and will add but a single remark in conclusion. Mr. Camp's inference of the intention of the framers of the Constitution, as expressed in the long tenure of office, is quite gratuitous. That instrument was a compromise of many variant opinions. Such was undoubtedly the meaning of some, but not of the more Democratic portion of their number; and though the latter consented to the long tenure, it was doubtless under the impression that the working of the system would be in harmony with the genius of that Democracy, which was evidently to be the pervading spirit of the whole. The instructions may be obeyed without resignation, even with a protest of the private opinion of the individual; and (not incompatible with obedience to instructions, which are but rarely given, and only on the great occasions usually deemed worthy of such interposition) all the other benefits supposed to be derived from the long tenure may be obtained without a violation of the great cardinal principle to which all others must stand subordinate, of popular self-government, by the absolute and perpetual prevalence of the will of the majority. THE IRISH GIRL. BY THE AUTHOR OF HOPE LESLIE," &c. 66 My peace is gone; I shall find it never, "Now sit down, Margaret, child, and rest you-here by my bed-side. How comfortable my bed feels!—it always has the right lay when you fix it, Margaret. Come, sit down-the work is all done up, and done as well as I could do it myself—even the outside of the tea-kettle is as clean as a china-cup. It's a mystery to me, Margaret, how you learned such tidy ways in a shanty." "It's not always that I have lived in a shanty, Mrs. Ray." "Don't turn your back to me, Margaret-draw your chair closer to my bed. I want to have a little talk with you, Margaret. I feel myself going down-hill, and I don't know how long I may be spared." "God forbid you should be taken, Mrs. Ray, dear-you that are so good to them that's near and them that's far off." "You must not flatter me, Margaret," said the old woman, in a tone of voice that indicated anything but displeasure. "And do you think I'd be after flattering you, Mrs. Ray — you that are mother-like to me. God knows you are kind, and it's James says the same; and you know yourself James, God forgive him, loves no Yankee besides you in the world." "But I mistrust, Margaret," said the old lady, fixing her faded gray eye on the young creature, "I mistrust James's sister can't say the same." Margaret's cheek, ordinarily pale, turned to a deep crimson. The old lady cleared her voice and continued. "It's no crime, nor nothing like it, Margaret, to love what's good -hem-if what's good is what's suitable." This seemed a mere common-placeism, but Margaret's cheek turned pale again, and a tear trickled over it. "You say you have not always lived in a shanty, Margaret, and that's what I have said to our people. Says I to sister Maxwell, Margaret has had as good opportunities as the most of our mountain girls;' says I, 'she can read handsomely -there's few can read like her,' says I--' I wish the minister could read so,' says I—' her reading sinks right down into the heart."" "Who is flattering now, Mrs. Ray, dear?" "Not I, Margaret-'tis not our way to flatter." VOL. X., No. XLIV.—17 "Nor ours. God knows, Mrs. Ray, it's what we feel we speak, be it good or bad." "Well, well, Margaret, I know some does call real kind heartwords flattery, but they are no such thing, I know-we won't talk about that now. As I was saying, judging from your reading and writing, you have seen better days-havn't you, Margaret ?" "Some days they were better, and other days not. I had an aunt was housekeeper at Lady Kavenagh's-and my lady respected my aunt, and she would have me to come and live with her in the house-keeper's room. And Miss Grace took a fancy to me, and taught me to read and write, and so forth." "Then, after all," said Mrs. Ray, with manifest disappointment, "your parents have always lived in a shanty ?" 66 "They lived in what we call a cabin, ma'am,—thank God.” 'Margaret, you forget-I've often told you it's not right to use the name of God in vain as you do. You should not say 'thank God,' when you mean nothing by it." "Indeed, Mrs. Ray, dear, and I do mean something. I never think of my home in that cabin without thanking God in my heart, and God forgive me if I don't thank him with my lips too. That cabin was my home, Mrs. Ray-there was a kind father and the kindest of mothers always working and earning for us. There it was my little sister-God bless her-died; there was James, my mate, always glad to see me and sorry to part from me; there was never a harsh word among us-we laughed and we cried together what one loved, the other loved, and what one hated, all hated-hadn't we what's best in castle and palace, and not always found there? I've often thought, wouldn't my lady Kavenagh gladly change with my mother, and rough it with loving hearts and happy faces?" "Oh, I dare say, Margaret, ladies in the old countries have it hard enough, as every one knows who reads the newspapersbut that is nothing to the purpose. What I want to come at, Margaret, is, would you could you be content to live in a cabin again? -you would hold your head above it — wouldn't you?" Margaret's form dilated as she impulsively rose from her seat, and raising and clasping her hands appealingly exclaimed: "God strike me dead then if I would !—it was in a cabin that my father and mother that's gone lived-it was in a cabin that James and I grew up together with one heart between us. Oh, Mrs. Ray, dear, God forgive you-it's such a long time ago, I think you have forgotten what a happy thing it is to be a child at home, in your own father's place-be it castle or cabin, it's all the same." "Don't be affronted, child, and don't cry," said kind Mrs. Ray, wiping her eyes, and somewhat overpowered by Margaret's vehe mence; "your feelings are natural, and quite right, but there is no need of such a hurricane. I am sure my sons and daughters love me and are dutiful to me, but it's in a quiet regular way." "And that's the way of your people, Mrs. Ray, dear, but our feelings come in a storm, and you may as easy keep the winds that come howling over your Becket hills quiet, as keep them still-but it's not always we are feeling, and God forgive me if I have said anything to fret you-you that are so kind to me." "It's a satisfaction to be kind to you, Margaret, and I don't like to leave my work half done. so sit down again. I'll be candid with you, Margaret, and you must be candid with me, and open your heart to me as if I were your own mother." "Ah, Mrs. Ray, dear!" Margaret kissed the old lady. "I am going to use freedom, child — who gave you that blue guard-chain that you wear round your neck day and night?" "Sure it was William Maxwell, then," replied Margaret, in a voice scarce above her breath. Margaret was learning that some of our feelings, and those of the strongest too, are stillest. "And what have you hanging by it, Margaret ?" Margaret answered by drawing out a small crucifix appended to the guard-chain, kissing it, and crossing herself. "O, Margaret, Margaret! that's to be a cross to you indeed, I fear-I must tell you the truth, there is nothing William Maxwell's parents have such a horror of as a Catholic, and there is nothing his father despises like an Irish person." "But it's not William Maxwell that's after fearing the one, or despising the other," said Margaret. "No, that's true. William is not a serious young man, and he's thought little about religion yet, one way or the other; but when he comes to consider, Margaret, he will feel, as we all do, that it's a dreadful thing to be a Catholic, and pray to saints, and worship images, and so forth. And besides, I know William better than you do, Margaret - I've known him from his cradle-he's my own sister's son, and I love him, and he's a pretty young man, but William has not resolution to go against his parent's will, be it right or wrong. Take care, child, you've dropped your stitches-now, Margaret, child, hear me patiently consider, to-day is not for ever, and them that's young and soft like you, if their feeelings are cast in one mould, they can be cast over in another." "Will ye speak right out what you are after saying to me, Mrs. Ray, dear?" "Be patient, child-slow and sure, you know. We can't have everything just right in this world, Margaret when one door is opened, another is shut - young folks must be conformable." Margaret sighed with irrepressible impatience, and Mrs |