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•o •* ii]>;>n him. W<* cannot tell how Bur-I
net would have received such a charge, >
had it not been for ih<* interference ofa cer
tain blind god, who imparts a portion of his
own indistinctness of viaidu to lovers, when :
the faults and impertinence of fathers ate ,
apparent enough to every; body else.
Reasoning him out ol so preposterous an i
idea was onlv hunting him to another co- ,
ver. lie insisted upon it that But net was |
only careful of his interest, because he ex I
peeled one day to inherit the properly ho
preserved. His conduct upon this convic
tion was loss viblent, but more determined
that before. Such were the effects of one
lawsuit upon a naturally frank and open
disposition! Williams ban learned to sus
p'"Ct the motives of all about him. He had
also learned conoealin ml, for he hugged
his suspicions to himself, and inwardly, but
firmly^resolved, that the young man, from
whom, about twentv-four hours before, he
would haveconcealed nothing, and to whom
ho would have denied nothing, should be
forbidden the house. We have seen how
this determination was received by Mary,
and how,despite the old gentleman’s threats,
the visits of Burnet were still continued. —
To do the young man justice, however, it is
fair to state, that he was an innocent tres
passer. Had he caught an inkling of the
old gentleman’s suspicions, ho “'as too
high-spirited to give them a colo*, by per
severing in his suit to the daughter,
* * * * *
‘She shan’t!’
‘He talks in his sleep, Mary.’ ,
‘I won’t—l won’t, never will—it’s no—”
(indistinctly.)
‘What does he mean?’
‘He is fighting over his battles with Giles.’
Mary knew that was a-fib-when she ut
tered it ; and fearful that her father's
treacherous tongue would betray her, rose
to waken him.
‘Stop Mary, there lie goes again.’
‘He hates Giles so devoutly,’said Mary
trembling. ‘Let me wake him.’
‘No, no, sit still.’
‘Comes here—(indistinct)— hick him out!’
‘Mr. Giles does not come here, Mary!’
The tone in which that short sentence
was uttered, spoke all the wounded pride of
Burnet, at discovering the deceit which had
been practised upon him. The whole truth
flashed upon his mind, —she had been re
ceiving his addresses in her father’s house
iu his very presence, against the parent’s
positive wish and command. How dart
is tbp o fuenunciation of min
gled reproof and biting sarcasm! Although
pronounced in an under tone, it disturbed
the old gentleman, and he started from his
chair, completely awake.
‘Hey ! what! all, Burnet,’ said lie coldly,
‘good evening. But what the devil does
all this mean ? Mary there is as red as
her shawl.—and you look like a convicted
felon.’ Poor Burnet did indeed betray that
he felt the awkwardness of his situation.
As ii he had discovered a gunpowder pTot,
the old man suddenly resumed—‘Pretty
well—p-r-e-tt-y well—d and well, Mr. Bur
net! What have you hem doing ; what
have you been saying, sir. to my daughter,
inmvown house, and under my very nose,
sir?’’
‘Mr. Williams!’
‘Mr. Burnet!’ And the old gentleman
made a very low bow.
‘Mr. Williams, I have accidentally dis
covered by your murmurings in your slum
bers, that you propose to kick me out of
vour house.’
‘Sir!’
‘No more concealment, Mr. Williams, it
sits ill upon you. If, with your accustom
ed frankness, you had told me that my vi
sits to your daughter were disagreeable to
you, I never would have intruded them.’
‘Stay away, and wish medead-eh V
‘Sir?’
‘Yes, just as I say. I know I can’t wear
two faces, likea lawyer, (between his >
and since I’ve got a part of the wu nl 3 r
stomach in my sleep, I’ s -’ 06 hanged if the
whole shan’t -*ne’. 1 believe you don’t
care B J —n for my daughter-blit want to
marry my money. There! you have got
all now, that you could fish out of what I
shall say in my sleep for a year to come ;
or as long as I live.’
‘Well, Mr. Willi a ms, I shall not under- j
take, by talking, to defend myself, as I can
do that best by a course which w ill not only
save words, bur time, and not a few steps
between my office and your house. I wish
you a good evening, sir, and a night’s sleep
where I shall not be a listener : and to you,
Mary, I wish a portion of vour father’s
hottest frankness. Had you possessed a
tithe ofit, I should not now be so ridicu
lously situated. Allow me, sir, before 1
go, as a particular favor, to inquire what
friend possessed you with so g,ood an opin
ion of me.’
‘Your best friend, sir— yourself! You
need not try to eye me out of countenance;
if lam a witness against you, I am not to
be brow-beaten, I promise yon. I told you
to keep the hall a rolling with that scoun
drel Giles, till you had burked him clean.
I told you that I would throw away two dol
lars for his one, til! he had not a sixpence
left; I wanted to rid the country of him.
Instead of that, you compromise, and bring j
me a co # uple of thousand dollars ofhis mon
ey. You thought me an old fool, in my do
tage, but I’m hale yet! I’ll live a scare
crow to keep you out of this house, tin’s ten
years ! You thought you was husbanding
your own property ; but I’ll give jt to the
Board of Foreign Missions first; to the Es
quimaux Indians; throw it to the devil, be
fore you shall have it. Good night, Mr.
Burnet.’
‘Good night, sir.’ ‘
Mary, as in duly bound, waited upon Mr i
Burnet to the door. .Many a time and oft
had that door been a witness to the fact,
that the last five minutes of a visit, (often- <
times unaccountably stretched to sixty,) i
sre, like the poscript of a letter, appropri- I
ated to the real business; as if the parties |
forgot it, till about the close of the inter- i
\iew. Her face, ns plain as look could t
speak, said ’One kind word before we part:’ t
Burnet obstinately refused to understand; ‘
and did pot even repeat Jiis “good night” at 1
the door. It was fairly closed, and the key
turned, befor- Mary felt that she was real
ly alone ; that he had taken his leave ; per
haps his final leave.
‘A passionate, hard-hearted brute, to
leave me thus!’ she exclaimed. ‘l’ll ne
ver speak to him again !’
‘That’s right!’ cried the father, who
caught o*lv the last sentence. ‘I hat is
right, my daughter!’
‘1 wish I could hate him!’said Mary, as
she closed her chamber-door. Oh ! a single
tear would have been to her a pearl ol great
price ; but not one could bo persuaded from
her eye-lids.
She threw herself upon the bed and in
stituted a self examination. Judgement on
the bench, present, Burnet, appellant, by
his attorney, Dan Cupid ; and Mary Wil
liams, respondent. Cupid argued like an
adept, for his absent client ; Mary made
but a feeble defence ; and admitted that she
might have been partially in fuult. The
case was submitted to Conscience, who re
turned a verdict of Guix-tv against the mai
den. Mercy, who is always ready to tem
per the severity of Justice, brought a show
er of tears to her relief, and wept herself to
slecp-
Cupid is a knavish lad
Thus to make poor lawyers mad.
‘Morning he sweets was flinging,’—but
in the destributiou she certainly forgot to
be impartial. The vinegar aspect of Tim
othy Burnet, Esq., as lie sat in his office, on
the morning succeeding his ejectment from
Old Wilßurns’s premises, was proof posi
tive, that he, at least had been neglected
by Madam Aurora, in her dispensation of
“sweets.’’
‘A heart! ess. old reprobate, but his daugh
ter —Mary ‘ —thorp’s the unkindest cut
ofall ! To think she should have conceal
ed the true state of tilings, and let me get
into such a confoundedly awkward scrape.
‘Kick him out !-Vthat’s the thanks I get, for
serving another Sit my own co^t —for com
promising a suit, which, properly nursed,
would have bonghYrne a house. Williams
vs. Giles—but I'vX done with him. I’ll
send old Hunks this\nackage, and think no
more of him or his dvAghter. Here, Peter!
(His Mercury, who “Vs improving the ad
vantages of the situatioX of a lawyer’s boy,
by playing in the street,Vocketed his mar
bles. and shuffled into tV office.) Take
this packet over to Mr. WViains’s.’
‘Ask lor Miss Mary, andVait for an an
swer, sir ?’ V
‘No. you fool, can’t you rcacKahe direc
tion ? Lucky that these things Von’t dis
turb my philosophy. They would com
pletely unhinge some men for
but give me as much to do every dayMts 1
have had this morning, and I won’t tnVk
of Moll Williams, or any other she, twifce
in a twelvemonth. Well, Tipstaff, havA,
you served it ?’
‘lf you’d just take the trouble to look it
over,’said the sheriff’s deputy, as he en
tered. looking more than usually pleased,
and handing the attorney a paper. ‘l’m
thinking this won’t do to arrest Joe Barnes
upon, any how.’
“‘ Sheriff cither of his Deputies
often requested — never paid the same—
neglects and refuses so to do goods,
default thereof body of the said—Mary
Williams !’ Pshaw 11 never gave you this /’
‘Y'ou certain! vdid.’
‘Glad to hear you so decided, Mary.—
Glad to hear what you said last night. I
knew you’d come to your senses after a
while, and see through that rogue of an at
torney.’
Mary spilled the coffee, and scalded her
> fingers; looked white, then red, then white
again.
‘Mean to stick to b, don’t you?’
‘No—ah—
on,a.i s right—never speak to him again
—eh?’
‘Y'es—that is— ’ ,
‘Eh ?’
‘No, father.’
‘See tha: you don’t ; never speak to a
fortunehunter ; never look at one !’
‘I don’t think Burnet a fortune hunter.’
‘No! you hate him for something else
then? A scoundrel ! If Burnet has pre
sumed—if-if, I’ll shoot him ! What do you
hate him for ?’
■I don’t.’
•What! No and yes ; yes and no ; you
do hate him. and you don’t! Law puzzles
me, but woman is worse. If law is the de
vil, woman is legion !’
The old gentleman commenced pacing
the room in a paroxysm. Burnet’s pack
age came in, as Williams opened it, a note
f. ii to the floor.
‘For me, father ?’
•Y’es—if your name is Tobias Williams.’
. If there is anything in this world parti
cularly and vexatiously provoking, it is, to
lie obliged to keep one’s hands off a newspa
per, till some a-b-c-denarian has spelled
out all the advertisements, or to wait a
week for the contents of a note, in which
you are equally interested with the man
who is proceeding to inform himselfof them
us deliberately as if his life, were to end
with tie pronunciation of the last word.—
j • ‘it. r uhor Williams placed his arm
•iai raids- window, drew forth his speota
(••it? , wiped and ad justed them, held the pa
per now near, row farther from his nose,
till hr ascertained the exact focus, Mary
could ha-uiy idrhear snatching the paper
from his hand.
‘Let me read it first, papa.’ Noanswer.
‘Do let me see it, father.’
‘After me madam, if at all.’
‘Oh dear!’ And she fidgetted in her
chair, and looked so vexed. ‘Well, if I
am not going to see it to-day, read it aloud,
will you, father?’
‘Eh-em. -When you instructed me to
commence a suit against Giles, the prose
cetion of your claim for damages involved
the title of your estate. I found, when you
purchased of Bangs, that he gave you only
a quit-claim. He bought of John Bradley,
whose wife never relinquished her right;
and she being dead, it is notv on her son.’
What on her son ; what does that mean,
Mary?’
‘Let me see. It’s in, father ; in her son.’
‘in her son. Well, what does that mean?’
•Never mind, father, read on.’
‘ln her son. If Giles had been put to a
ligal defence, bis lawyer would have dis.
covered the flaw in your title, and have
purchased the claim, or bid for it, which
would have compelled us to make a great
sacrifice of money and to obtain a clear
deed. I was afraid to let the ease lay o
pt n a day, lest he should discover, and
take advantage of the fact, —and therefore
settled with Giles, to your great dissatisfac
tion. I was afraid to trust even you with
the secret, until 1 had obtained a quit claim
of young Bradley—in which 1 have just
succeeded. For the expenses—you may
reimburse me, whenever you can spare the
money from your benevolent purposes to
the’—What!’
‘Esquimaux Indians.”
‘Well, what the d—l does that mean?’
‘Why, my dear, gentle pappa, you swore
roundly, last night, to Mr. Burnet, that you
would give your money to the Esquimaux,
before, ns your son-in-law, he should touch
a dollar of it.”
‘Did 1 ? I’d forgotten it. Mary!’
‘Sir!”
‘Look me directly in the face. Now tell
me, did you ever tell Tim Burnet what 1
thought of him in that Giles business?’
‘Never.’
‘Are you sure!—no evasion now.”
‘1 certainly neverdid.
‘Then 1 think better of him than if he had
visited the house, knowing what I thought
and said. We acted like fools last night.’
‘We indeed!”
‘Give me my hat and cane, Mary.’
‘Where are you going father?”
‘Don’t ask so many questions, girl.’
* * * *
‘Time Flies.’
‘Oh, gran’pa! Let me look at the pic
tures in the big Bible. What’s that, gran’-
pa?’
‘That’s writing.’
‘What does it say?’
‘Timothy Burnet to Mary Williams.’
‘Who is Mary Williams, gran’pa?’
‘Go ask your mother, you young block
head.’
The amount of merchandize Great Brit
ain exports annually, is set down at about
one hundred and seventy millionsof dollars.
From the New- York Sun.
PROPERTY OF MARRIED WOMEN.
Mr. Brown has introduced a bill into
the Legislature, to secure the rights and
property of married women. This is an
important movement, and warrants the
careful attention of the community. Not
only every woman would rejoice to see her
\ rights better defined and secured, but we
\>vould suppose every man who is the fath
er of a girl would wish to see the property
vhich he has earned, perhaps by years of
paient toil, used to guard the independ
ence of his daughter, and secure to her
childim the means of education and use
fulness. Under the present law, a girl of
fortune it a lure to every showy, heartless,
mercenary man, he overlooks her virtues
and graces and regards her but as the
key to so mmy thousand dollars.—Law
yers are somejmes called in by a careful
parent, who washes that his children, rath
er than other mm’s, should have the enjoy
ment of his proptrty, but in the strong lan
guage of an eminent man, “the wife is al .
most invariably kissed or kicked out of her
rights.” A law ilia', by its general appli
cation, would render it common and proper
for u woman to use. govern and control her
own'm-operty, would permanently secure
an avoVJance of much confusion of interests.
In New\York and in New England, a
woman an!i her personal property are the
chattels of her husband. In Louisiania,
on the contraiV the property of each is sa
cred and is not amenable for the follies
and extravaganee\fthe other. There the
wife is the partner, of her husband.
it will not be easy to frame a law which
will be just without any exceptions.
Wives may be unreasonable sometimes; as
husbands certainly are; but the general
principles of the law should be to secure to
every person their own property. For
house-hold necessities both should be lia
ble, but the profligacy of one should not be
suffered to ruin the other. Without dissi
pation or intentional dishonesty the wife
may bo robbed—her individual estate may
be merged in her husband’s estate, and in
case ofhis death she is only entitled to the
use of one third of her own property during
Iter life, after which it passes to her hus
band’s heirs We will give an example:
The active, well informed, but penniless
son ofa man living near New York, went
to Mississippi, obtained employment as the
overseer of a small plantation, and married
a daughter of his employer. The death of
his father-in-law made him the master of
about ten thousand dollars, which he was
desirous of investing in property in his na
tive town. His wife at first objected to
leaving her relations, and the softerclimate
of her birth for another climate and new
associations, but yielded at last to her hus
band’s will. He bought a farm, mill, store
and dwelling house with this money—not
a dollar of which he had ever earned, be it
n-niembered—and sat down in his native
place a man of property and influence.
Things went well with him for seven or
eight years, when he died, and then came
the division of his property. It was all in
real estate; he had left no children or
will, and his numerous brothers and sisters
entered into the possession of the property
as heirs at law. The helpless widow
could scarcely be made to undertand that
her legal claim to property, bought with her
own money, amounted to the use. of one
third during her natural life. So accus
tomed were the good citizens to see the
wife’s rights of property trampled under
foot, that they were more disposed to laud
the generosity of the heirs, who gave the
widow nearly two thousand dollars in com
mutation of her own dower, wherewith to
return to her family, than to wonder that
the l&w was so far from equity. There is
scarcely one of our reuders who cannot ro
call instances in which wives and mothers
have been stripped of needful furniture,
given by parents or earned by themselves,
to pay grog debts and gambling losses.
The wife’s lien on her husband’s property is
limited, while his control of her property is
nearly absolute. Is this just? Nature
has made her the guardian and instructor
of mankind, and the law should secure her
the enjoyment of her own property. — New
York Sun.
A RICH OLD MAID.
In threading the streets of Natchcs,
there is something peculiar in the signs
over the large mercantile houses. These
signs assure the stranger that a large por
tion of the business in this country is done
by females—they are the capitalists, and
the active,, members of the business firms.
As an instance of the pranks played by
Dame Fortune on those who woo her favor
by industry and economy, we would name
the ease of Lydia D .About fifteen
years since she came to-this place from
Philadelphia, alone, poor, friendless, unre
eommended, and commenced business in
the humble capacity ofa huckster—sell
ing apples, candy, &c. at the corners of
the street —next a small shop-—a retail
store, &c. gradually rose up until her prop-
I erty is now valued at three hundred thou
sand dollars. For some years her opera
tious in Natches and Vicksburg have been
large. She owns some dozen of the finest
houses in Vicksburg, and is now a rich old
maid, and what is a rare circumstance,
accumulated all by her own industry.
She has none of the the contracted no
tions and love of small matters peculiar to
old maids; but has a strong grasping mas
culine propensity for heavy business tran
sactions, with all the care and economy of
a strict housewife.—When in Vicksburg,
the other day she was pointed out to us,
and we pursued her several squares until
she entered a storehouse on business. Her
features are rigid with care and calcula
tion. There is none of that sweet smile of
loveliness which plays about the sweet
countenance of woman—her voice has as
sumed a hard and commanding, tone; in
stead of the soft cadences of love and kind
ness—her step is hurried, instead of light
and graceful. Her action and air is
that of business; instead of the graces of
lovely woman.
She only knows one impulse of action—
money. As an illustration of her charac
ter, we will name one instance of her at
tempting to woo the powers of Cupid.
Having accidentally discovered that she
was alone in the world, about four years
since she determined upon purchasing a
husband. One. day as Judge Pinkard,
(brother of Dr. Piukard, formerly of Law
renoeburgh, Ind.) was passing her estab
lishment in Vicksburg, she called him in,
and informed him that she wanted him to
count out some money for her.
The reader will recollect Judge Pink
ard is an old bachelor. The Judge at her
request, stepped into her counting room,
where she had one hundred thousand dol
lars lying upon the table. When the
Judge had finished counting the love pile,
she informed him, in quite a business man
ner, that he could have the control ofit, if
he would take her with it'. History does not
mention whether the judge took the ques
tion under consideration, or whether he
rendered the opinion of the Court instantly.
, But we are glad his decision has been pre
served. He has decided that the one hun
dre thousand dollars was quite desirable,
but the incumbrance was greater than the
nett value. So the petitioner was nonsuit
ed. We would suppose she was about for
ty years of age, but it is Lard to judge the
age of an old maid.— Cor. of Indiana
Amer.
From the Boston Post.
DEBATING SOCIETY.
“I move that the question be read.”—
Secretary reads, “ Which is the truest sci
ence, mesmerism or phrenology ?” “ Mr.
President, the question has neither negative
nor affirmative.” President, “No matter;
Dr. Jiggs for mesmerism—Captain Jewkes
for phrenology.” Mr. Saunders, “I would
ask, Mr. President, if the question does not
intrench itself against the constitution ? We
are not to discuss religion nor politics in
this society now, free knowledge is a secta
rian pint, and if we are agoin’ to discuss
that, I shall withdraw from this society.”
President, “The word has a different
meaning in the question, and has allusion
to the protuberantic devilopments of the
crannyum.” Stump, “ All this is outer
order; there aint no question afore the
meetin.” President, “ Dr. Jiggs, will you
open ?” Dr. Jiggs, “ Mr. President, 1 have
not entered these walls this evening, pre
pared to speak on this question ; I-ur-'rah
am-ur-rah-in favor of mesmerism as I un
derstand it. Mesmerism is a kind of som
nolence, as is mentioned by Tycho Brahe,
when he said, “ Blessed is that man who
invented sleep ” Under the magnetic in
fluence of mesmeric sleep, man lias travel
led through the abstruse regions of-of Mr.
President—the chimeral atmosphere of the
most unbounded metaphysical incongrui
ties ; he has analyzed time and space, and
soared into the mysteries of the esse and
existere, like-iike-like-any thing ! My op
ponent will no doubt extend his ferocious
mouth against my argument; but, sir, my
argument is based on the experiments of
Collyer and tbe philosophy of Dods ! Sir !
I say, sir ! mesmerism is the key which o
versets the dipnet of time, and discloses to
human visiology the intricacies of miracu
lous interpositions. But phrenology, sir,
what is it ? the child of gall and bitterness.
It maps out the human skull like a terres
trial globe, and its professors, to make good
the resemblance, have whirled their brains
on their axes, and equal-knock-tialized their
exuberances on the oxsipital and piratical
bones. I reserve my remaining remarks
for the rejineder.”
President, “ Captain Jewkes !” Jewkes,
“ I aint prepared to say nothin’ on this
question; at-least-no-but then sence I
beam the doctor, I would say a few words
oil the ideas chalked down here on my hat.
Phrenology is the science of the knowledge
box, and knowledge- is free : hence phre
nology. But mesmerism is the science of
sleep. It says that one man can put an
other to sleep ; so can opium. It deduces
man then to the level of a pyzon-ous drug.
My antagonist has made use of a groat ma
ny long words, and his speech would go
twice round the world and tie.” Stump,
“ 1 call the cap’ll to order for personalities.”
Jetvkes, “ Didn’t the Doctor call my mouth
‘ ferocious ?’ Retaliation is die first law of
nature. He needn’t say nothing about
mouth ! Just look at his, Mr. President;
it goes clean round, and makes the top of
his cranny-urn, as he calls it, an island.
Mesmerism and its supporters are hum
bugs, sir; yes, sir, humbugs, sir. They
pick out a sleepy-headed (at bov, who drops
asleep of himself, and pretend that they
willed it, when they couldn’t a helped it if
they had tried. I c onclude, sir, by moving
the question.” President, “ those in favor
of mesmerism, hands up, 14; phrenology,
hands up, 14; a tie. Gentlemen, you
have decided that one science is just as
true as the other. The society is adjourn
ed.
POLITICAL.
From the Savannah Republican.
The political horizon.
When it was first announced that John
Tyler seriously looked to the- .succession, it
excited an easy smile, much ridicule, and
the most sincere unbelief. This is an age,
however, of vanity, presumption and hy
pocrisy, and now we are hardly surprised
that Tyler does all and every thing with a
view to secure his election, or rather his
selection, by the Democratic party in the c
ventof their inability to select either Van
Buren or Calhoun. Divide el impera, is now
his motto. Ho is subsidizing presses in a! I
directions, and so low is the standard of
public virtue, that with many who wish
theircountrywp.il, it hardly excites an e
motion to see John Tyler openly taking the
field, as did Martin Van Buren, with an ar
i my of office-holders at his heels, and bend
ing the patronage of every department of
Government to suit his own ends and aims.
The Whigs are accustomed to fight this
thick array of the cohorts of power, who a
rouse their accustomed determination.
The contest between the adherents of Mr.
Calhoun and Mr. Van Buren, is every day
becoming more and more engaging. There
are elements there which will not coalesce.
Expediency caused some time since, a un
ion, which is not now held together eith •r
by the ties of mutual interest, the siiasi’ e
force of local or party attachments and
sympathies, or the suggestions ofa common
hatred. Already we see it broadly intima
ted that sooner than aid in a second eleva
tion of Martin Van Buren to the Presided
lial Chair, a considerable portion of tin-
Calhoun party would unite in thesuppoit
of Henry Clay. Fortunately for himself
and his country, Mr. Clay has those high
imposing attributes, that expansive and no
ble-minded statesmanship, that perfect ex
emption from shifts, quibbles, evasions, non
committal policy, and every species of po
litical littleness, that render his standard a
popular one for the disaffected of any party.
As for Mr. Tyler, lie will buy up all the
freemen, whom he has money to buy’, (foi
unhappily there are enough of these free
men—“ Patriots,” Walpole called them, of
w hom he said he could make forty of a
day.) though not enough of them to consti
tute a majority of the people. Meanwhile
in Georgia, we are doing well, and so far
as we can see, Mr. Clay, is destined to be
come more and more popular as a candi
date.
From the N. York Express.
NORTHERN AND SOUTHERN CHA
RACTERISTICS.
Intrigues on the Presidency. —The “De
mocracy” were never so busy, as they are
just now, in adjusting the preliminaries of
their grand convention. Mr. Calhoun, ac
cording to the last report seems to be carry
ing some points. He has got his delay at
least, which is essential, The spring of
1844 is to be the lime. He has also defeat
ed an early fixing of the time by members
of Congress. There is to be no congres
sional caucus. The place is not yet
named. According to the Richmond En
quirer, (State Rights)
lix and
of getting A Washing
ton Pennsylvanian (a
Van Buren organJWrows some light upon
the movements going on:—
“In regard to the Presidency (he savs)
there is less talk and apparent excitement,
than those at a distance suppose, it being
generally felt and conceded, that it had bet
ter be left to the people themselves to deter
mine the time, place and results of the nom
ination, the more especially, as it is appre
hended that members of Congress would
not make an amicable arrangement in
regard to either. Ido not not mean that
there are any indications of a want of har
mony after the nomination is made, but
those who think the prospect of obtaining
the nomination of their favorite eandididate
not a good one are disposed to postpone it
as long as possible; in the hope ofa favora
ble chance, while it is generally admitted
that iu many respects it is very desirable
that it should be made at farthest before the
meeting of the next Congress, so as to pre
vent the jealousies and rivalries that it is
feared will exist, to at least some extent, if
it is not then determined. In regard to the
nomination itself, the impression seems to
be that Mr. Van Buren is the strongest.
The Vice Presidency is also a subject of
a great deal of the same quiet sort of inter
est that is felt in regard to the other; for
since the happening of the contingency that
gives to the office its highest importance,
the people are awakened by the necessity
of selecting a competent and suitable per
son. From what I have learned in regard
to it, I think Col. King of Alabama, is now
the choice of tbe most of lire friends of Mr.
Van Buren and Mr, Buchanan, and they
prolmbly will be able to agree at least upon
this. They all agree that for its peculiar
duties he is eminently qualified, and his
long and faithful services and gentle de
meanor, have justly made him an almost
universal favorite with his party, and in
deed all parties. He lias been iu the Sen
ate many years, is intimately conversant
with the rules and the legislation of Con
gress, of unexceptionable character, and
a special favorite with the firm end solid
Democracy ofhis own State, particular! *
and 1 believe, is greutly esteemed in the
whole South. He would certainly be a
most respectable candidate that every De
mocrat in every State of the Union could
give a frank and conseiencious support to,
either Mr. Van Buren or Mr. Buchanan,
would unquestionably add strength to the
ticket; und without any special interest or
partiality, it really seems to me that tiro
preference is a very reasonable and a
just one!
The friends of Mr. Calhoun of course
look to a different section lor an adjunct to
hi in, and would doubtless make their
choice among Northern men; though except
Mr. Woodbury, jvho is supposed by some
to be friendly to Mr. Van Buren, 1 do not
knotv whom they have fixed their eves up
on.”
When Mr. Van Bureu visited his “rela
tiins” ip Virginia, the Carolinas and Ala
bama, it is now well understood that he
fixed upon Mr. King, Senator from the
latter State, to run wijh him, for two
causes, first, that by taking him from a
slave-holding Slate, he put Mr. Calhoun
hors du combat, and next, that by thus flat
tering the ambition of a leading man in a
Calhoun Strap, as Alabama is, he made it
the interest of Mr. King to oppose Mr. Cal
houn.
In pursurance of this State Rights plan
of creating a National Convention, Mr. Van
Buren has gone to Albany to lead the Le
gislature off in his behalf. Mr. Calhoun
desires that the People in their own Con
gressional Districts should select Delegates
to a National Convention. Mr. Van Bu
ren, it is well understood, aware of the ditfi
, culty of packing so many little Congres
sional Conventions, is opposed to such ac
tion on a small scaie, and w ishes to pack
by States, or, on a great scale ; but as he
dare not carry out such wishes, inasmuch
as it would give Mr. Calhoun fair ground
for “nullification” or “secession,” lie pro
poses now, as we understand, to take the
wind in the State Rights sails, that is, to
leave it to the States, “the Democracy” in
the State that desires it to choose by Dis
tricts, and “the Democracy” in the State
that don’t desire it, to choose by States.
Thus we have the clue to the movements in
B--nti ifs state, Missouri, of opposition to
tin District System, even ofelec ting Mem
bers of Congress under the Law by Dis
i - c:s as well as among the Van Buren De
mocracy of New Hampshire.
Now in New York, Mr. Van Buren as
we see, intends to trick Mr. Calhoun by the
appliances of this double machinery. Mr.
V. B. is in Albany to pull the strings of a
Legislative nomination. That achieved by
the free use of the abundant patronage of
Gov. Bouck, the cry will be thioughout the
State, “Regular nominations,” “Van Bu
ren is the regular.” The potency of such
a cry with “the Drmocracy’ is terrific. It
is as awful in the ears of the rank and file,
as theory of“Tarlton,” “Tarlton,” was in
the ears of Carolinians and Georgians du
ring the Revolution. “The Democracy”
of New York is so accustomed to drill and
discipline, and it is so affrighted from its
independ- nee and freedom of action bv this
cry of “Regular,” that it would no sooner
desert the standard of its party, than a ve
teran regular on die field, the colors ofhis
regiment. Under this erv, Mr. Van Bu
ren can thus carry the Congressional Dis
tricts of the whole State.
Mr. Vanßurenand Mr. Calhoun well
personify the two classes of men that com
pose the Northern and Southern “Democ
racy.” There never could be a better re
presentation of men. Mr. Calhoun has the
principles of his party. Mr. Van Buhhi
has the cunning. Calhoun embodies in
himself the enthusiasm and the romance of
his associates. Van Buren, the matter of
fact. Mr. Calhoun represents the hopes
and the aspirations of “Democracy” in the
future. Mr. Y r an Buren thinks only of the
present. Mr. Calhoun has an excitable
nervous mind, in which the imaginative
predominates: Mr. Van Buren is unimpas
sioned, without one spark of imagination,
and as cool as the ices of the frigid zone.
Mr. Calhoun relies for success upon his
principles, his intellect, his genius, his o
venvhelming and universally acknowl
edged superiority: Mr. Van Buren upon his
tact, his smiles, his address, his appeals to
human interests, his familiarity with the
lower rules that too often sway human
nature. Mr. Calhoun knows how men
should act: Mr. Van Buren, how men
would act. The whole turn of Mr. Cal
houn's associations, is speculative: of Mr.
Vanßuren’s, practical. Mr. Calhoun lives
in the wilderness of South Carolina, a far
mer and a book man: Mr. Van Buren, in
the heart of a crowded population, a man of
the world, a gentleman,—and a politicks.
Now it requires no foresight on the part
of Northern and Western men to ascertain
who of these two men will, with “the De
mocracy,” carry the day. The heart of the
“Democracy,” beyond all doubt, is with
Calhoun, but not its head. Mr. Calhoun
has all the sympathies of his party, but
none of its machinery, none of its wires,
none ofits vast powers of combination, none
of its tact.
The fact is, Southern so-called Demo
crats, never compete with Northern so
called Democrats, till they are practically
educated. Trained up as they are, in sole
ly agricultural districts upon large and re
mote plantations, unaccustomed to the fric
tion of a populous society, though ed
ucated in books (far better than herejtyot
they have no knowledge of that, MraVan
Buren has so much of,—the knowledge of
the world. It is impossible for any South
ern man trained upon aSouthern plantation
