however, fell short of a clear popular majority by nearly four hundred
thousand votes, and so, perhaps, was not overwhelmingly reliable and
satisfactory. The outgoing President, in his last annual message, as
impressively as possible echoed back upon the people the weight and
authority of the indorsement. The Supreme Court met again; did not
announce their decision, but ordered a reargument. The presidential
inauguration came, and still no decision of the Court; but the incoming
President in his inaugural address fervently exhorted the people to
abide by the forthcoming decision, whatever it might be. Then, in a few
days, came the decision.

The reputed author of the Nebraska bill finds an early occasion to make
a speech at this capitol, indorsing the Dred Scott decision, and
vehemently denouncing all opposition to it. The new President, too,
seizes the early occasion of the Silliman letter to indorse and strongly
construe that decision, and to express his astonishment that any
different view had ever been entertained!

At length a squabble springs up between the President and the author of
the Nebraska bill, on the mere question of _fact_ whether the Lecompton
constitution was, or was not, in any just sense, made by the people of
Kansas; and in that quarrel, the latter declares that all he wants is a
fair vote for the people, and that he cares not whether slavery be voted
_down_ or _voted up_. I do not understand his declaration that he cares
not whether slavery be voted down or voted up, to be intended by him
other than as an apt definition of the policy he would impress upon the
public mind,--the principle for which he declares he has suffered so
much, and is ready to suffer to the end. And well may he cling to that
principle. If he has any parental feeling, well may he cling to it. That
principle is the only shred left of his original Nebraska doctrine.