I came to ask of you your support, and find you only, talking of principles! Sir, tell me, what have _principles_ to do with _elections_ ?" John Calhoun looked at him for one long instant.

He looked down then at his own thin, bloodless hands, his wasted limbs.

Then he turned slowly and rested his arms on the table, his face resting in his hands.

"My God!" I heard him groan.
To see my chief abused was a thing not in my nature to endure.

I forgot myself.