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A. 0.-MTJERAY, VOLUME X. THE AMERICAN UNION, Published every Saturday Morning, rti r .mm A Or. MXTriXiAY. OFFICE ON ISUOAIJ STREET, WEST FNIi THE NEW BRICK RANGE —! I* STAIRS. TERMS: ~, aihanct.or Three llulhrs after or months. T N.”2b i crii...ns taken ..r loss Item v. ur, milv** ti'ii.l in advance; aid ” |.:ip>-r ..i-’ <">!nin. l (links. .n the ojitiou of the l'ubli.-oor) uai.Ull m.rHgM arc .-'y i-'-t. ’ at 'se n,l I’iltv ('onts tor oarti oil.-. mntuiiiMn**. All Advertisement’ not “ n .•/,.-/ .* ;* Mr either of insertion '■ f -“"I. ; -a,tome,l unlr orderenonl,ar.<lrharsr,lJ'irii’ “ ■ Sales under regular c>"■**• *"'•• ft s sos on real estate. mast .e I . lay*.. . .*2.>” Personal IWei-ty. u*l.T morlftaya Ii (as. toast la- Citations f<r Letters ot Atiminiatratiun, .Jo la\> - <•> Tax Collector’s Sales, tiff days • • Notices to Debtors and v red 1 tors. < days. .1 m: Sales of personal property of Lstatos. In nays f J M Sales of Land or Negroes, ** I” day- Lot) : Applications for leave to sell lan 1-or negroes, must W published weekly for 2 months 0.00 Notices for Letters Dismissorv by I .\eeutors t.r Ad ministrators, motitbly for < months 1 on By'Guardians* weekly for in days 1 on Kstrays, 2 week* ; • • • ! ,Hl Announcing Cau.lidates (h> he /nwl m n/.nuim ). ... o.nn Orders of Courts of Ordinary to make titles t” lat.d. ;ie cotnpanied by a copy of the h<md r agreement, must be published three mouths. RATES OF ADVERTISING. THK following are the !.’ tfes • •}’ t “i.u :.- *'’ Vdverii <ing. det*rinited on b, i •ii *•. u,. i .„ .• •• i. t• • take effect from the time ol’ etil* tiug int< .i \ t -w e-.n ----traot : , . . , . jjfp'Pransient A tvcrtting. £1 00 j-v s jun - . for the first insertion, ami cent s for every -niiv j-*m • i •■- “Con rii \r A :.vi:!:ti*4i\o. 12 mo up -. s nu - 12 ms. I without change,.. ‘■s <* tJ” : - “” rl” * 1 *l2 no 1 Changed • niurterly,• ’ 7 <*••: in “.i 12 no In nn Changed at wi11..*.. S tin* 2nn !I nn Is mi 2 .nuari'N. e.hnnjse,.! I< <*"j > 2” “” 1 eiiunsl ..juj.r'. rlv.. 12 INM b nil 21 ml 2- “” eimiiii'il at will to h i il’i nil 3sniiai-e:, withoutcbims*'..| la im 2’ mi “” :it ml ('tiauyo.i • j 11 ; irt**r Iv. - 1 I s *i'i 22 2'. lit I 111 *liiiiijr.->* nt will. . ...i 2n nn •Jiilm 22 mi -in mi 4 column. wTllnutt clinin'o,. I 2 <J -j'J “” tliiuiged .| u.t it .-rly.. ] 2i nn 112 •’ I'" 1 •••* ’ Changed at will ‘ do nn i • tin >n nn tin m 1 column, without >• 1 1 ■ i'iir• ■.. jli nn “■> “ ‘ I , H nn ( luiigcl ‘(mirtcrly, iin nn V■"* ill) !*n nn I i'‘ nn Chitiigioj at wi11,.’... i <• nn Inn (in I2n l” #9. ‘.II transient tnlvcrtisoments will lu> (inerti >1 until ordered litscuntinn-d, and .-Ikirm. ,1 :(.•<•,.ninijrly. A.A. Ii A I'l.lnN(■. “ 1 ini|iiiv Stall".” > A <•■ MI UI!A V. “ Anmi i’ Mii l iiion.” MISCEIXANKOI'N. V r*tn t!. Spirit .*1 ?In A LIFE IN GLIMPSES. “ f’.ftwixt tw v i | >• lit* h*.\. i- 1 U* ; • ’ i. I vvi.x! iiiifiit aii-t jufm i*. ‘‘j ”i ; in l I ■/’ ‘■ v • 1 - * I • i l<; \ . N A N N 1 I. N I! A i. I*. A , IM.lt MAW- ? l 1 i;v. lam a bachelor! Den t smile or |u— jii'h/meiit rasl.lv u| ion in.* 1 must tell why lam wlmt Imu I can scarcely reniemher When my 1 i1 her r- nmv- C<l to tlir new village of Urn. kullo li seem- too that there is a dim r ‘liieiul eranee of an *>i-! home hythel'ke It is all vague, dim. and an “ft.; t. however. Vet I sometimes find lintel with me a vision of an old brown hoihli. g with elms in front and a sleepy lake down in the vale, and micli. 1 have heard my father say, was our old home These impressions seem to me as much like dreams as realities, and no wonder either, for the footsteps of long years have marched over them, lint Ido remember distinctly a broad river that we < mssed on our way to our new home, that is the most dis tinct of all—its silvery waves flashing around the flat we crossed over on are not to lie forgotten. The streets of Brookville were not cleared of stumps when he entered a little cottage on the main street. There was a newness and a fresh, ness about everything there. It was not long be fore it began to assume a busy character as new Bettlers came in, and new stores and simps w ent up. My father was a bricklayer, and 1 carried some of the brick and mortar that went in what is now called the “old court-house at BrunkvilJe.” The ■court-house at Rrookville isoi n, ami I helped rear its brown walls ! Time flies! Among others wiio came to Rrookville was a man named XeiiTL He had been a in reliant in one of the seaport cities, hut failing by injudicious speculations he had retired with tiie little wreck of his fortune to the new village, either t>> recruit, or to spend the evening of his life in ijttiet I nev er knew which. He had been a hard drinker dur ing the last few years—the demon in the .wine .glass had been the main rock on which lie wreck ed his all: and his wife he left in the city, in the graveyard behind the steeple church—sent there by his abuse and cruelty. So said an old shoe maker who came with Neall front the city Nannie Neall was like a bright star gleaming in the stormnight above the clouds. She was the only child of the coiner, and a lovely being she was! Site was just my age. or nearly, not ipiitc —from April to June was the difference. I believe. Neall managed to get a house within a few rods of ours; and he. with his daughter, a sour old dame of a housekeeper, and the old shoemaker, both of whom came with him. constituted hisfatn ilj* Nannie and I were not long in becoming fast friends; we met one sunny afternoon down in the clearing on the brooksidc, after which the village was named, and thM'e for a full hour we played ‘captive's base’ among the broad walnut and imp lar stumps that stood like watching mmin* is in the vale. The very next day we went together on the hills with our baskets and gathered whurtiebd rics and talked and played among .I he ris ks : and when we grew tired she sat and told me of her mother -of how she used to.weep while she sat at her feet end then died in the cold.night with consumption and broken heart, and that the priest said she went to heaven to live with the Virgin and Angela. I have since thought b ‘ that tier mother was per haps a Catholic, hut of this I am not certain. Neall put up a tavern in Rrookville. and the new settlers gathered there and drank, in member the first night there was a great noise and laugh ing, and fiddling, and dancing, and singing there, and I thought it was something that must he very nice, but my mother told me it was a wick- 1 place ®ljr AutrTx£aa Uniua. and that I must never go there. I wished my ! mother had not told me that, for Nannie was there and she was my best friend. Years passed as others had, and Nannie and I grew up ; she was one of the loveliest creatures of female beauty I had ever seen. All said she was. She was as gentle as the whisperings of the white winged zephyrs among the April flowers, and as ! pure as the lilly that bent beneath the summer I breeze the kiss of the rippling waves of the mead |ow rill: and yet she was reared among the wrecks ! of a father's fortunes, and had heard, time after’ time, the jest and ribaldry of drunken men around the bar her father kept. I Nannie was happily in possession of the virtues which ennoble and beautify woman’s character.— •'lie was kind and cheerful; neither wild or mel ancholy, yet the lovely calm of her countenance was tinged with a shade of sadness-—motion, look, tone and deed, were gentle as the spring-time sun beams shimmering among the- garden li iwvrs.-- Nunnie .Vail was the loved one in lhvokville. I loved her when wo were children-playing on Copse and heath—on rock and deli : and now, that we were grown, 1 loved her with all the passion ate idolatry oitny young manhood. Not a whis per ol love had ever passed our lips: and yet the secret was written in and fondly cherished by each bidden heart. All! we were happy in this I secret heart worship. We were open together, in ; the wild notik where we had gathered berries when children : along the brook where the waves danced o'er their pebbly path that led to the river: in the old woods where, the oak and pine pointed their taper spires up to heaven, we rambled, and dream ed. and loved in silence, with none but nature with us. lor hours we lia\e sat on the brook brink watching the frisking tisli gliding like golden crea tures among the crystal waves, and the clear wave lets hastening away, and the mellow sunlight trembling on the tree tops and lading away behind the h lis. and all the time we felt that our hearts held sweet converse in breathless whispers, and thus a holy tie was weaving woof and weh into , our life and hopes, and destinies. (*ld Ncall hceame aware of our growing inti macy and became enraged. One evening when 1 ’ had gone to spend a few hours with Nannie at her home - (tavern as it was I could no hanger stay a wuy) the old man came to the little sitting room where we were, and sternly ordered me away. 1 arose and a tear drop hung on Nannie's ey lid. I took my hat. and as 1 went out the old man sang , “Ut alter me- -non t Alilui.K !’ Til*- old housekeeper flatted her ugly face against ‘ the glass door between the two rooms and echoed the chorus hod carrier !’ 1 lie old shoemaker stopped hammering his lea t hi r as I went out. and spoke low and said that lie wi it id see me that evening. I t o rabble in the dramshop, through which 1 h ad to j mss. caught the notes of the derisive taunt and shouted it titter me: ‘hod carrier!’ The in terna! taunt rings in my ears yet. Tint evening the old shoemaker saw me. and told me that Nannie loved me and we shou and see each other clandestinely. I thanked him. and through his interference Nannie ami 1 met almost every day and talked and loved. And in this way wo spent some of our happiest hours, dreaming of the bliss that was to be ours in a few short months, for when the summer pass, ed we were to be married. Love with us was now a reality, and in the solitudes about Rrookville we dreamed of its bliss, as, together, we watched the drifting of the white clouds riding on the blue ocean of the sky. Our dreams were like the clouds! A cloud was in ora sky with its storm in its bosom too, hut we | saw it not! * * * * * * * * Christmas day we were to be married. None knew it. however, except the old shoemaker and Rob Lincoln. Bob was to convey her to a neigh boring house in his new sleigh and 1 was to meet him th< re w itii the \il|age Parson. Such was the arrangement. The day E Ere Christmas the hills and houses 1 were white with snow. Brookville was till life | for the enjoyments of the scuson. That morning ; two strangers appeared in our midst. None knew j from whence they came. 1 met them on the i streets early in the day. I disliked their looks and ! turned aside. There was a lurking look of sin ; lingering about the face ol the eldest —a heartless, brutal looking wretch. The younger appeared j but little better. All day long the revel increased in and about Neall's house. Once-or twice there came near be ing a tight. Just after sundown. I met Bob Lin-1 coin running towards my father's house at full; speed. I had not time to ask him a single ‘idea tion. There was the wildest terror flashing from the brave young man’s eye. ‘Run with mo to Neall's—run, dreadful times there.’ and lie grasp ed my arm and started to drag me. I tore myself from his gra s p and bounded away with him. Hist! the wind blows now just as it shrieked by my ears as I ran up the snow covered street of Brookville on that fatal evening. Draw your chair closer ; 1 wish to speak in whispers now. Within Neall's house, when we reached it this was the scene: The old housekeeper stood with her chapped hands folded in Iter yellow apron with her face flattened against a pane of the glass door looking into rtic tavern. A few of the village sots were staggering around the room, or half dotting on the pine benches at the fire; the old shoemaker seem ed pleading with Neall, who was nearly drunk, to revoke some decree of his; and my own Nannie was struggling in the arms of the oldest of the two strangers, while the other stood a little way off grinning with grim satisfaction ! My blood boil ed in every knotted vein! When I sprang into the arena, old Ncall stammered out in drunken slang : “o. tin! Mister Hod Carrier, I've s#i.n Nan to a city gentleman!’ and he held up a roleau of gold coin. Alow laugh gurgled up from the throat of the infernal purchaser. Nannie sold! “Prove all thigt; hold fast that which i* good.” GRIFFIN, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 11, 1853. I grew dissy—the room, with its tragedy, seem ed to whirl around with me. I heard the familiar voice of the old shoemaker cry out,‘Mr. Ncall, how can you barter your own pure child away to a libertine, whose heart is to day as black as any in purgatory, after promising your poor dead wife to be both father and mother to the dear child !’ A drunken curso came up from the hot lungs of the father against the shoemaker and his own child : ‘better that than the wife of an infamous HOD CARRIER !’ 1 saw the old woman's pittied face grinning through the glass. And then I saw the mild blue eyes of my poor, half distracted Nannie almost starting from their sockets, and her right hand, that was free from the monster's gra-p, held out imploringly to me for help: she screamed my name I rushed to her rescue. Bob Lincoln was before me. Draw year chair closer. Old Neall was'enrngod that we should dare to rescue bis child from the infamy to which ho had sold liar, and grasping the old shoemaker's ham mer from the bench, he hurled it ut us. The wot pon flew close bv Bob's ear and struck the head of my poor Nannie! With aI av murmur of mother. mother ! she stink in my arms to the floor. The two strangers lied forever front Brookville. I call ed again and again to Nannie to tell me she had not tied from earth to heaven, but she kept Iter lilutrcyerflxed upon mo. and a changeless smile rested upon her jump face. And all this time tin old housekeeper kept her hideous face pressed a gainst the glass grinning through at the seem And old Neall stood with his arms folded, clutch ing in one hand the roleau ot gold. I called again and again to Nannie, and tike a child whispered in Iter ear that I loved her still, but the change less smile was the only answer. I held her head in my arms have and wept. The old shoemaker ran and brought the village surgeon lie came and kneeled down by her on the tavern floor, and took her pale listnd in his I loved him more than ever for bidding it so softly and tenderly, examin ining the livid spot halt bid by her auburn hair, where the hammer had struck. I could bear it no longer. 1 whispered. ‘Doctor, is Nannie gone,’ 1 could not say dead, hut worse! ‘And lie laid his slender finger significantly on his noble brow. Boh Lincoln, the Doctor and the old shoemaker carried Nannie from the tavern to the Doctors home and I followed. And the blood of the victim fell drop by drop on the pure white snow. The next day old Neall went to eternity. The Angel of Retribution had watched his steps and had marked his last going out. The shalt ot the Dale Archer had struck him to vex and then de stroy. In the battle strife with the demons of deuru’M tiu mens lie was overcome, and hisspirit. shrieking with fears, went to be judged by Him who weighs Immortality in the eternal balances of Truth. He was buried beneath the snow-web that lay on the yard behind the village church and no one in Brookville wept. Day after day I watched nt the bedside of poor Nannie whispered to her and wet her dry lips with water. She mostly lay with her languid eyes closed, but when she did open them they stared out at me with such terror that 1 shrank from them. And she would point her finger at nic. and call mo a monster, and command me to carry her back to Brookville, to her own dear . <)h ! how agonizing that was ! To hear her call my own name and link it with the fondest endearments, yet look upon me as the one who had bartered gold for her loveliness! Thus days and nights passed: and the faithful surgcnri till the time endeavoring to call back her wandering mind. It was all in vain ! The cloud that had drifted in our summer sky had burst upon us in a winter's storm that knew no spring time in life ! My ppor h veil and Inst Nannie Neall! She sits in the broad fleck of sunbeams that fall through her window in one of the little rooms at the It Asylum, a harmless, dreaming Li nuk ! And there she will sit and chatter to her bird and her straws until the g"od Angels beckon her away. 1 have sat by her side in that neat little cell, looking into her dreamy eyes, many a lonely hour, but she has never known me! ‘She sometimes calls to her kind-hearted matron and bids her ‘take the stranger away !’ And I have sometimes seen tears in that kind hearted woman’s eyes as I have departed, at the same time urging her to treat poor Nelly kindly. And now. fair readers, do you wonder that 1 am si bachelor?’ Relieve this : for me then never was-but one Nannie Neall, and she yet lives, but a Maniac lit m did till this! And fur this I hate it—help me hate it! And when the old man and poor dreaming Nan nie go down, to the grave, as they soon must, teach YOUR CHILDREN TO HATE IT ! My Husband—A Life Sketch. My husband is a very strange man. To think lie could have grown so provoked about such a little thing as that scarlet scarf! Well, there is no use in trying to drive hitn ; I've settled that in my mi nek Hut he can be coaxed—can't be, though ! and from this,time shan’t I know how to manage him ! Still there is no denying, Mr. Adams is a strange man. You see it was this morning nt breakfast, I said to him, “Henry, I must have one of those ten dollar scarfs at Stewart’s. They are perfect ly charming, and will correspond so nicely with my maroon velvet cloak. I want to go this morn ing and get one before they are gone. “Ten dollars don't grow on every bush, Ade line ; and just now times are pretty hard, you know,” he answered, in a dry careless kind of tone, which irritate.) hie greatly. Besides that, I knew he could afford to get me the scarf just as well as not, only, perhaps, my manner of request ing it did not quite suit his .lordship. ‘(ientlemen who can afford to buy satin vce'.* at ten dollars a piece ran have no motive but pemtrinusness for objecting to give their wives as much for a scarf,’ I retorted, glancing at the mo ney, which, n few moments before, ho had laid bv ?*iv plate, requesting me to procure one for him, lie always trusts me in these matters. I spoke angrily, and should have been sorry fo* it tbe next moment, if lie had not answered. £)Yoii will then charge it to my ponurioitsness, i I suppose, when I t<il you that you can net have another ten dollars.’ ‘Well, then. I “ili/tuhe this and get a scarf.— N on cun do without the vest this bill,’ a id 1 took 1 tip the bill and left the room, lor lie did not nn j swer me. ! I need it and 1 inns! have it ! was my mental I observation. a< 1 washed niv te.M-wolleu eyes and j adjusted tov hair for a walk on Broadway; but l aU ‘'ie while there was a whimpering at my j heart : ‘l'o tet and > it. < to’ and lav the v. st for I _V"i . h'lsbai. 1 and at hot that ins . r voire tri -1 umpla-d. 1 went down totl.u tailor's, bought t the vul. at. 1 brought it hone-. ‘i len i’ : Henry; I selected ;1. • .’..i That ! ! thought w.-H'd -nit you be-t. I -n’t it rich?’ I -aid.as 1 mif-dibit tin \a-1 aft. i dinner: for some how, IIIX’ pc’do “a- :.:! gun ‘. I bid-f. !t -0 much j haj pi.-r since tk ■ -ca.rhad b ow ••!■•■ n up, : ! 1!.- did tc.t at; -a r !•(.’ tl u wMidi a •look o! ti-iobon. ss t..!i. his dark —ry T -'. as lit *ips f.!! on nn li’ ! . ! that it v.as a- m::< ha- I could do ti, I, p li tn oning • at liMit. Dtit the or,'am id’ the ‘ax is not-tobl yet. — .At , \.'. ii !. :iu- to h> threw i a li'bc bu-idlc into my lap. 1 opened it. and! tin re was ti.. -cmt ,o!’. t! v,-i x one I set mv he.ii! on at S'.-wait’s \i st, rd.v. H Ml, II HEX !’ ■ Isa up a;..; Uylup !to til,,id; him, bat mv hns tivuibhd, and tin ! tear- da-in ,1 ov, r tin- cv, l i lies and lie drew toy | head to hi- heart and smoothed ibu'li my cuilij, 1 and initrmui-. and the oh! ining words in my eai, 1 wh.b- ! ,-tii ■! tb : a!■ - tl , but itu tear ] were m; h- “, :, t ! lie is ast Imull, in\ hu-Laud, but he is a ! noble one to . old > it is a little hard to tigd it j out -oini-titu• s; Mill it -1-,-ins to me that in’ heart -av u m i-arnc-: !v to-night than it ever did h-f it and bh-s 1 111 11! POLITICAL. Foreign Influence. The following is a part of a letter recently written” by lion. Jure. Clemens hate C. S. Sena tor from Alabama, giving his reasons for advo cating tin 1 iuii-C oI the Alltel man l'ai ly. In the autumn of lst'.l bather ..Mathew, an Irish Driest, who had acquired great celebrity as a Temperance lecturer, paid a visit to the United States, lie came to Washington and a resolution was at once introduced to allow him the | .iv'.!■ go of the floor of the Senate. This was opposed by Mr. ('alhoim on the ground that it was lowering the dignity of the Senate, and cheapening its honors, liy myself and others upon the •ftTithcr ground that he had while in Ireland indulged in ih iiuiicintions of slavery and taken-part with- tin: ‘Abolitionists against the Soutli, which I c a.si,] ied an tin warrantable in tennoddi: ng .with mutt.-is that, in no way eon - ccrin-d liini. Nit \ itlistanding these objections the ii’ ninth n pa— Iby ad r.idcd majority:, and lather Mat Lew -took las. at upon tin* floor of the Nutate. Not long jittorwaids (o-neral bil low. who bore upon b - prison the Inaiks oHioii oralde wounds recently* received in the service of the licpuldie, visited \\ iishington, and found, to his iTiortilicutiuii no doubt, that the place which had been occupied bv a Catholic Driest was in aceessidile to him, a native born American, and late a Major ( o-nerfd in the wars of his Country. Nor was h-: ah me a sufferer. Kvcry officer who served in the Mexican war, not a member of Con bjress, or an existing State Legislature, was in like manner excluded, witli perhaps tbe single exception ~: f.b n. Seiu ho hid received a-pccial vote of thanks during the war of LSlg. which of itself entitled him to admission. It will not do to tell tnit that iv-pe.-t for the cause of t.-m er j ance produ -d this astoni-hing result. ’J lie ('on j gress ot the l . S, are not ivumikabT.-asTUseiples | ot temperance, and that yciv and tv there were per j haps not six Member.-.of tim S, mile who did not drink wine at i!;i,i;,-r, m In , before. T he Iri-Ii vote was tbe Coni! ,!ling eau-e—(ho de-ire to ci,mail do tli.it latge !,,„]v of naturaliz ed citizens who inok-a.l up to I at In i Mat lie w. as a superior being. 1’ wa-lbis--w4tttji gnVc-to tbe Foreigner and the < ‘atlndie air impm lance above and beyond that, of the soldiery whose blood had brain, poured out like water on the-plain* of Mex ico. It was this “hej* induced the Senate to forget what it had been—to throw a-ide the-se verodignity which hrrd sothvatrd Them in tlnr iniuds of men, and to exchange the character of 1 touian sages for that of -mile s.ve< [diaiiis. There was a tin.,: when that high body was composed of’sterner stuff’. There “as a time when such a proposition Would have been treated with the scorn - it deserved. HarthntTvrrj'i ,'rArmthe'frbfr Kxodtts. Now if we venture to question foreign merit it must by done witli bated ‘breath.’ If ve Ventura to deny any foreign demand, however imperious, \vcare threatened with political anni hilation, and yet I am told we are in no danger from foreign influence. When the Senate of the United States has lieut before the storm where are we to look for that public virtue which is sturdy enough to rc-i-t it ? The other case to which I allude was still more outrageous. L. lx -utli bad been aetivelx engaged in exci iuga revolution in Hungary, hut when the hour of tea! came he shrunk from the danger he-hud evoked ami flying aero-s the fron tier he took refuge beneath the <.‘rescent of the l urk. An immense unionist of sympathy was at once manufhe'nr, <1 tor him, and our U,merri ment, not to lx- I > bind the public expectation, dispatched a vessel of war to bring bun to our shor. s. Os .course t hi- was done under the spe cious name of sympathy for struggling freedom.! But if there had h rjtt no Herman votes in the j United States lam very much inclined to the opinion that sympathy would have expended it-j self in some le-s e,,stlv manner. But not satis- 1 fled with JbUiiging him here buth,,branches of | Congress passed a resolution inviting hitn to, Washington, lie came in aTTthe poinp which I surrounds the Monarch.* of the old world—arin-| ed Guards paraded before his door to keep off, the vulgar populace. And. we who would not| not hare tolerated such conduct for one hour in the President of the Republic, not only submit milled to it on tbe part of this foreign mendi cant, but actually invited him within tlio bar of the Senate. He entered with all hi* guard about hitn. The clank of Foreign sabres awaked the echoes in the vestibule of the Senate, and nn eager crowd of Hcpuhlicun* looked on with won dering admiration at the pageant. If the dead are permitted to witness events upon Earth what in list have been the feelings of the stern Fathers of the Republic when they saw the velvet uni forms of a Foreign body guard witliin ‘.lie snored precincts of tbe Senate 1 ix*t us suppose them gathered about tbe immortal Washington, ns thev wore wont to gather in tho days that tried inon’s soul’s, gazing in sorrow nod silence upon the di-graceful spectacle. There is X\ arren. <lron, Sumpter, Marion, Lee, Fliclbv, Williams, j Wayne ami a hundred cithers of tho might} dead. Tin ‘ remember that it was German can tmn that thinned their ranks nt Mud Fort and Red Bank. Thev remember that German shouts rang over the field of Brand'w ine. They re member that German bay ,nets weredirnm I with i patriotic blond nt Monmouth. T he", remember j < ‘liads ford, and < hews house, and many another li,-!,!- where tbex met the hired mercenaries that Kngland’s gold had brought across the Atlantic to fasten manacles upon a people who had never injured them, and remembering this they turn to each other witli the mournful inquiry, “are j these our sons ? are tin* traditions of the revolu tion alien,Tv forgotten ?” Alt 1 shade* of depart jrrl Patriots, there i-imn figureTif power in our j land of which in vur d.iv \<m did not dream. T here are a few hundred thousand German vot er- atm tig us. ami every I ‘cinligoguewho aspires t ,i’ e I'(.-or, :n„l * li.-iit. - that glim mer about him tmevieing with each other in | base conct's-iotSto German pride and German .feeling. But Urn picture is a sickening otic an I *1 turn from it. Go! knows il was hitter enough at the time, and I lia'e no wish to dwell upon it anew. Not satisfied with the honors ‘neaped upon i Kossuth, G,ingress determined to extend to him ! more ‘material aid.’ Mr. Seward discovers tlini he was a Nation's guest, and introduced a Bill assuming his expense as a National debt. The account turned out to be somewhat extravagant. This plain republican inartVf’to liberty only liv ed at tbe rate ot tp/iOO per day. Consuming in the twenty-four hours t Tiampagne and Buigutis dy which cost more than it would take to feed •a respectable family in North Alabama, for a twelve month. At that very moment there were lulls upon the f'alander for the relief of destitute W idows and < •rpliatis, w hose husbands had died in defence of the country, which Congress lots not had time to attend to even to this day. Not so wi'li Kossuth—he drank his wine—eat his /Mttrx defvi* t/’fte, and Congress instantly footed the Bill. Ito you ask the reason! I answer widow.- and children have no votes. The For eigners who w ere to be conciliated by adulation of Kossuth, bad nianv. (tillers will say it was. not Kossuth but Ids cause—that lie had been battling for freedom and they wished to mark their appreciation of bis efforts. Asa tribute to the spirit of Liberty i’ might have been well enough if wi* had not been so lamentably de ficient in paying that tribute to our ow n citizens. W lien general.laekson had driven the British ar my from New Orleans, ami rescued the country from one of tin* most terrible dangers with which I it was ever threatened, lie wan arrested in the very hour of his triumph and heavily fined for the rigorous discharge of liis duty ; and yet Con gress permitted more than a quarter of a centu ry to roll away without aeknowlodging the wrong or attempting to repair it. He was a Native American—there was no Foreign sympathy in Ii is behalf—no foreign voles to conciliate. When Gen. Houston returned to tin* United Slates with the iatuel* of San Jacinto fresh upon his brow, bringing an empire in his hands to lay at our feet, iiu. -Coitgressial mvitatinn* Celebrated j his arrival. No lulls were passed to pay his ex penses. lb* was a Native American and noth ing was to 1,,- gained bv laudations of his chiv alry or liis patriotism. When Gen. Scott had concluded one ot the most wonderful campaigns ever recorded in hi-torv, lie was recalled almost in disgrace, and liis army, which lie had found untrained militia and converted into veteran lie-1 roes, “cvs transferred to one of hi* subordinate*. - <>f -viiquit hv, ap : plied no balm to the wounded feelings of tile j mat'cldcss soldier, lb* was a Native American j and the voice of condolence’ was mute. Had j General Shields received similar treatment a j howl would have been raised from one end of j the continent to the other, and half the. tongues ; in Congress would have grown weary lamenting ! hi- wrongs. -j Whit these fee's before rue, and nil know i them to In* fads, I must he pardoned, for main ! tabling that tin-re is danger from foreign iiiflu } dice, -a in 1 the -ooict it is boldly met the bet j ter. - Temporal Power of the Pope. Tbe Warren t on (North Carolina) News says;— •We have recieved ami publish below, a letter j from Mr.O. A. Browtmon, of Browtison’s Review, !(A Roman Catholic) to a citizen of this place, who had written to Mr. B. requesting the num bers of his Review wherein lie maintained the civil authority of the Pope in this country. The consent of Mr. B. lias been obtained to make what use of it may be deemed proper, although it was not written for the public eve. ibit as , Mr. Branch has u**-d the letter in tins canvass wo think it best to publish-it entire. . ‘Boston, Jim*? 12, 18.">, r >. | Mi Jjutr Sir: I have received this moment j yours of the 7th inst., with its enclosure. lam j a.little at a loss to determine what course to ’ take. There are no numbers of my Review i wherein I have maintained the civil authority of ! the Pope in. this country, but as there are sever ed numbers in which I have discussed the rela tions of the two orders!—temporal and spirtiu i al!—I think I shall, upon the whole, best answer your wishes by sending them. I will therefore j order my publisher to send you all the numbera : j for 183. T and THS4. j You will find in the article* entitled ‘Two Or , <hr” January, IHST, ‘Thr S/eirilwil not ths Tern- j I pornl ’ April, and ‘Tfu S]iirilHat Supreme,’ July, j of the same years, the statement of my doctrine j |on the subject: and in “ Yon go too For,” Jan- 1 j nary, 1854, “ Thr Tnnjnrnl Power of the Pope,” j April, 1854, and “ UnrleJaci ond A*> Xrpktir,” | Editor and Proprietor. for October, of the same year, my explanation and defence of my doctrine. May I ask you to read these articles'm llieor •lcr in which I have named them ? If you will, although you will doubtless find much which, if nor,-Catholic, you will obj**et to. I am snre vou will find no such doctrine a- farn accused of hold ing. The subject T treat has been much obscur ed by controversy, and I am iinbG to misappre hension bv those who have not studied it some what profoundly from the CaT.hidie point in view. I heat the subject only urtfl'-r ecr’ain aspect*and f,r Catholics, and many of the term* I use have in Catholic theology a technical sense, which tho-e not familiar with theology may misnpppre licnd. I say this in excuse • f those who have mi-:eprescnted me. t ri.'iim (and never have claim'd for the Pope, out of the Ecclesiastical S'ates of which he is the temporal sovereign) no tm; r;’ or civil jurisdic tion. power, or authority, pro perl v so called.— The only power the Pope has in this country is hi-* power over Cat holies a* the -piiitunl head of the church. It is pnrelv spiritna* power, and can I !*r*d only for a"spiritual end, nnd even then only over Catholics, for the church does not judge tho-e who ar ■ without. In matters purely temporal, I, ns a Catholic, owe no obedience to the Pope, because he li.aa rercived from Jcstt* (Tiri'-t no nn horitv ns a tem poral sovi reign over me. He cannot make or undertake tin* rights of the sow reign or the dti ties of the subject - abrogate tl: ft rmcr or ab solve from fatten So f.ir til! Catholics, whether the ;o called ul tra Montanos, or the so-called Galliennsj aro agreed. The dispute lies n< ! hern. All agreC that the State is supreme and independent in its ow ti order—that is to say, in the temporal order.— But what I maintain i-, that the temporal order is not supreme ajxl itidej oi.di ii', tail in the very nature of tilings subordinated to the spiritual, since tlie end of man—the end for which God made him, directs and govern* .him bv liis Pro vidence —lies ui the spiritual order, not in the temporal. Kvcry man who In ! i-v.■ - any religion ■at all, whether Catholic, or noli-Catholic, doca and mtlstmulinit this; fin it is'only saving that wc must obey God rather than nun, and liw: for I the Creator rather than the creature. This pre mised, I think I enn state to vou in a few words the doctrine I do really hold. Inasmuch ns thr Inn pornl order is ndordin ti tr to the spiritual, it folloirs that thr state is untlrr thr law of justice ; constipuulhj the prince hohls his /surer* as a trust, not as an indefeasible right, and therefore forfeits them when lie abuses them and loses liis right to reign. This is the common doctrine held by all of ns Americans, and all Catholic doctors teach, and always have ianglit.it. It lies at the foundation of all true liberty, and is the only doctrine that cfln ever justify resistance to the temporal power*. Right of resistance of power, when it becomes tyranni cal and oppressive, I take it for granted is held by every American. But here is a difficulty. The < ‘hiircb, follow ing the Holy Scriptures, makes civil allegiance a religious duty, and says w ith Saint Paul, Rom. xiii, 1-2: “Let every soul be subject to the higher powers, for there is no power but from God. Therefore, he that resisted, the power re -i-tetli the qrilinancejof God, and they that resist purchase damnation to themselves.” Here you ! see I am forbidden by the law of God to resist the power, and commanded, on peril nfdainnation to obey. Here is my conscience bound to obedi ence, and my conscience ns a Catholic can be released only by a declaration of my Church, a Ibe divinely appointed director of conscience, that the prince by liis tyranny and oppression has forfeited bis rights, sullen from dignity, and ceas ed to reign. What I claim for the Pope, a* visi ble head of the Church, is the power to release my conscience from this religious bond, and to place me at liberty to resist the prince become a tyrant. This is all I understand by the deposing* power. The Power itself, everybody, not a tyrant or a -Five, as-erts. The American fA-ngo -s <,f 1770 asserted it. and deposed George the Tjiird. The on Ig difference is some e/ire to tin people ; some ‘to the iudieiduid ; and / claim it for the Church, ■ and thr pope as life head of In: Church. j The Pope does not in this e'xerei-e a civil pow er or juri-diction, and it is called liis temporal power, only because it is a power exercised over temporal sovereigns, or in relation to the obliga tion of the subject to obey the prince. But evert here tin- Pope docs not relieve from civil nllegi ’ a nee, for that the prince had forfeited bv It m-ty ranny, lie releases the subject only from the ! spiritual or religious obligation, su/tcradded by i Christianity to the cieil, and this only in case of j the C atholic conscience. The po/sr is the proper out],eerily to decide for ; me whether the Constitution of this country is !or is not repugnant to the laws of Hod. If he de i-i les that it is not, ns he has decided, then lam I bound in conscience to obey every law made in 1 accordance witli it : and under no circumstances lean he al.solvo tni; from my obligation to obey T • or interfere with the administration of government • under it. for the civil government is free to do ac cording to it* (‘onsiitution whatever it pleases, ’ that is not repugnant to the law* of trod, or to ’ natural ju*tiee. That it. is free to do triers than ; that, I presume no man in this country will pftl** tend. I have made these remarks to aid you to un derstand the doctrine of'lie articles to which I have called your attention. j You arc a stranger to me. but I take you to j be a serious-minded man,.and a I ,v< r of truth land justice; as such I have addrcc.J yon, I have no doctrine* or opinions that T w i-lt to con ceal. lam a Catholic. As such, T attu to Ixs 1 true to inv God, and to my fellow-men. | I have the honor to be, your obedient servant, O. A. Buownsox. Hugh J. Davis, Esq.. Warrenton. N. 0, The Rev. I>r. Stiles, Secretary of the Southern Aid Society, states that the people of the South have expended more to emancipate -laves than the religious community in the whole country j lias for all the benevolent objects lx-sidcs. The South has emancipated slaves at a cost and sacri fice to themselves of #125,000,000 ; while tho contributions to all benevolent obj-ets have been more than one-fifth part of this amount. George Copway, the Indian Chief, has taken I the stmnp in Kentucky, in behalf of the Know i Nothing ticket. NUMBER 36