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About News & planters' gazette. (Washington, Wilkes County [sic], Ga.) 1840-1844 | View Entire Issue (March 23, 1843)
•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
