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BY JAMES W. JOAES. The Southern Whig, FUULISHHD EVERY SATURDAY MORNING. terms. Three dollars per annum, payable within six months alter the receipt of the first number, or fur dollars if not paid within the year. Sub scribers living out of the State, will be expect ed in all cases, to pay in advance. No subscription received for less than one year, unless the money is paid in advance; and no paper will be discontinued until all arrear ages are paid, except at the option ot the pub lisher. Persons requesting a discontinuance, of their Papers, are requested to bear in mind, 'a setteinent of their accounts. •Advertisements will be inserted at the usual rates; when the number of insertions is nbt specified, they will be continued until ordered out. ft 7- All Letters to the Editor or Proprietor, on matters connected with the establishment, must be post paid in order to secure attention Notice of the Sale of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, or Guardians, must be published sixty bay s previous to the day of sale. Tho sale of personal Property, in like manner, must be published forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to debtors and creditors of an estate must be published forty days. Notice flint Application will be made to thb Court of Ordinary for Leave to sell Land or Ne groes, must be published four months. Notice that Application will be made for Letters jo administration, must be published thirty days and Letters of Dismission, six months. 0 Him i—i W I I ■ 111 '* rw-rn-l-R - PROSPECTUS of the .SW3W OB THIS paper formerly edited by Win. E. Jones, is now under the direction of the undersigned. The growing importance of Ath ens, the state of parties in Georgia, and the agitation of certain questions having a direct influence on southern interests; render it neces sary that the northwestern part of Georgia 'should have some vigilant, faithful sentinel always on the watch tower, devoted to a strict construction ofthetrue spirit of the constitution, the maintainance ofihe rights and sovereignty ■of the States, the retrenchment of executive patronage, reform, and a strict accountability nf all public officers; moderate, yet firm and decided in his censures, “nothing extenuate or setdown ought in malice,” —to expose prompt ly abuses and corruption when and whereevr discovered —such an one poses to make the W ind|fl connected with our tious. the latest ginal articles, and selections-’' popular works of the day in the various depart! ments of Agriculture. Literature and the Arts. To Georgians the undersigned is conscious l,e appeals not in vain for an increase ol patron age — an d he respectfully asks the friends of constitutional liberty to make an effort, to ob tain subscribers. The Southern Whig is published weekly in Athens Georgia, at ThfCb Dollars per annum payable in advance, Three Dollars and fifty cents if not paid within six months, or Four if not paid until the end of the year. J. W. JONES. PROSPECT US. AT the late meeting of the Alumni of Frank lin College, it was unanimously resolved ti. be expedient to make arrangements to issue a Monthly Literary Magazine, to be called THE ATHENIAN. The undersigned were appointed by the So ciety a committee of publication and joint Edi tors of the work, until the next meeting of tue Society. We have no interest in the work, ex cept that which we take in the welfare of the country and honor of the State. We, of the South, have too long depended upon foreign parts forour Literature, and neglected our own talents. We shall be weak so long as we think we are weak: and dependent until we make ef forts to be independent. We hope all the friends of Literature in the State, and especially the Alumni of Franklin College, will patronize the enterprise both by word and deed. State pride the love of Literal are, our interest in the cause of general Education, all call upon us to sustain an enterprise so necessary to our improvement, -and the honor of the State. A. S. CLAYTON, JAMES JACKSON, R. D. MOORE, WM. L. MITCHELL, C. F. McCAY, SAMUEL P. PRESSLEI', H. HULL. The Athenian shall issue monthly, on fine I paper, stitched and covered in pamphlet form, ; and shall contain sixty-four pages royal octavo. Nothing derogatory to religion, offensive to any denomination of Christians, or of any political party, shall appear in the Athenian. Its pages shall be. honestly devoted to general Literature, the cause of Education, the Review of new works, and notices of improvements in Science, Arts and Agriculture. Price Five Dollars per annum, payable on the delivery of the frst num ber, NEW GOODS. JW. JONES is now receiving and opening at his STORE IN DEARING’S URICK BUILDING, a general assortment of S’ALL WINTER GOODS, Which for VARIETY, RICHNESS AND SPLENDOR has not been surpassed by anv stock ever Offered in this market. His stock Consists of a very general assortment of Staple and Fancy l>ry <moo<ls. CLOAKS, OVERCOATS, READY MADE CLOTHING, BONNETS, HATS, SHOES, CALF AND WATER PROFFBOOTS, Sperm and Tallow Candles,&c. &e. Oct. 15, —24—ts WILL be sold on the first Tuesday in Febuary next,at the Court House in Che rokee Co., Lot of Land No. 1134, third District find second Section, in said eoun ty containing 40 Acres ; sold as part of the real estate of John Osborn of Clark county deceased. Sold agreeable to the last will of said dec’d. ISMA W. WOOLDRIDGE, ) , NICHOLAS OSBORN, ( bx rs Dec. 10.—32-tds J7IOUR months after date, application will be made to tho Honorable Inferior Court of Clark county, when sitting for Ordinary purposes, for leave to sell all the real estate of Robert R. Billups, late of Stewart county de ceased. ELIZABETH W. BILLUPS, Ex’rx. Nov. 26—30 —4im Southern Chig. From the Knickerbocker. jm f, m isgy eab. Farew ell, thou Dying Year—farewell ! Thy reign is well nigh o’er : The freshness of thy vernal hours, The glory of thy summer bowers, And e’en thy last pale ang’ring flowers, Will soon be here no more ! Perchance there are bright eyes that weep To see thee pass away, That in thy course, departing year, Have ne’er been dimm’d with sorrow’s tear, But blest with all of bright and dear, Would gladly woo thy stay : While others in the passing gale Hear only tones of grief; Recalling hopes of vanished years, And forms now seen through memory’s tears, An emblem of whose fate appears In every falling leaf! Yes! in thy flight has many a tie Os earthly love been broken : To be renewed; oh never more ! Save on that far eternal shore, Where, grief and death forever o’er, No parting words are spoken. With the fair flowers that graced thy bloom, E’en fairer things have faded ; Creatures of loveliness and light Have passed away from mortal sight, And tempests, ere the fall of night, The morn’s bright promise shaded. Yet weep not, earth, thy dying flowers, Thy hills and vales forsaken ; The breath of spring shall deck again With blooming sweets the verdant plain, And through the grove the softest strain Os love and song awaken. And Christian, sigh not o’er the ties Which this sad year has riven ; The form of love that faded here Lives now in yonder sinless sphere : W hy shouldst thou weep that one so dear Hath changed this earth for Heaven ! t. n. c. From the New Monthly Magazine for November. FIRST jLOVE; 08, COASTAACY SN THE NIMETEEXTH €E«TIBY. The assertion that 1 What is everybo dy's business is nobody’s,’ is true enough; but the assertion that‘What is nobody’s business |is everybody’s,’ is still truer.— Jjow, a love affair, for example, is, of all apart —an enchanted dream, ? ■N.'i f. <<||||hjiiatrimoni’il quarrel— by the interference and subtle language. ‘ that but the speakers;’ and yet this fine and delicate spirit is most especially the object of public curiosity.' It is often supposed before it exists : it is I taken for granted, commented upon, ; tinned and ended, without the con. :■* J the parties themselves; though a casual observer might suppose that they were the most interested in the business. All love affairs excite the greatest pos sible attention; but never was so much at tention bestowed as in the little town of Allerton, upon that progressing between Mr. Edward Rainsforth and Miss Emily Worthington. They had been a charming couple from their birth—were called the little lovers from their cradle; and even when Edward was sent to school, his let-1 ter home once a quarter always contained ; his love to his little wife. Their course of! true love seemed likely to run terribly ! smooth, their fathers having maintained a ! friendship as regular as their accounts.— I Mr. Worthington’s death, however, when I Emily was just sixteen, led to the discov-; ery that his affairs were on the verge of ! bankruptcy. Mr. Rainsforth now proven I himself a true friend: he said little, but did everything. Out of his own pocket he secured a small annuity to the orphan girl, placed her in a respectable family, and asked her to dine every Sunday. With! his full sanction,‘the little’ became‘the ] young lovers;’ and the town of Allerton, | for the first time in its life, had not a fault to find with the conduct of one of its own inhabitants The two old friends were not destined to be long parted, and a few months saw Mr. Rainsforth carried to the same church yard whithei he had so recently followed the companion of his boyhood. A year passed away, and Edward announced his intention of (pray let us use the phrase ap propriated to such occasions) becoming a votary of the saffron god. The whole town was touched by his constancy, and felt itselfelevated into poetry by being the scene of such disinterested affection. But. for the first time in his life, Edward found there was another will to be consulted than his own. Ilis trustees would not hear of his marrying till he was two-and-twenty, the time that his father’s will oppoiuted for his coming of age. The rage and despair of the lover were only to be equalled by the rage and despair of the whole town <jL Allerton. Every body said that it cruellest thing in the went so far as to thingtOD would da^|^ f H ii-h . j ' feeling, and *• iii:;vrr- sally | >if .< ■ I. t j.jh’l a -al • one atom of BL . lltey had said that thciiW : ' ’ ’ , Jr / a little of the world, an®L ayffh ol them men of their Accordingly, that Edward should go to London for the next three months, and see how he liked studying the law. He certainly did not like the pros pect at all; and his only consolation was. that he should not leave his adored Emily exposed to the dissipations of Allerton. She had agreed to go and stay with an aunt, some forty miles distant, where there was not even a young curate in the neigh borhood. The town of Allerton Was touched to the heart by the whole pro ceeding; no one spoke of them but as that tomantic and that devoted young couple. I own that. 1 have known greater rnisfor- “WIIERE POWERS ARE ASSUMED WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN DELEGATED, A NULLIFICATION OF THE ACT IS THE RIGHTFUL REMEDY.”—Jcjersmi. tunes in life than that a young gentleman and lady of twenty should have to wait a twelve-mouth before they were married; but every person considers their own the worst that ever happened, and Edward ! and Emily were miserable to their hearts’ ■content. They exchanged locks of hair; land Emily gave him a portfolio, embroid j ered by herself, to hold the letters that, she ! was to write. He saw her off first, under j the care of an old servant, to the village j where she was to stay. She waved her I white handkerchief from the window as j long as she could see her lover, and a little I longer, and then sank back in a flood of ; ‘falling pearl, which men call tears.’ i Edward was as wretched, and he was ■ also exceedingly uncomfortable, which I helps wretchedness on very much. It was j a thorough wet day—all his things were I packed up—for he himself was to start in ; the afternoon when the mail passed through ! —and never was a young gentleman more I utterly at a foss what to do with himself. ! In such a case an affair of the heart is a "j great resource: and young Rainsforth got 'upon the coach-box, looking quite unhap i py enough to satisfy tho people of Aller- I ton. It must be owned that he and the weatherequally brightened up in the course of a couple of stages. To be sure, a cigar has a gift of placidity peculiarly its own. If I were a woman I should insist upon my lover’s smoking: if not of much conse quence before, it will be an invaluable qualification after, the happiest day of one’s life. In these days roads have no adventure —they might exclaim, with the knife-grin der. ‘Story! Lord bless you, I have none to tell I’—we will therefore take our hero after he was four days in Lon lon. He is happy in a lover’s good conscience, for that very morning he had written a long letter ! to his beloved Emily—the three first days [ having been ‘ like a teetotum all in a twirl, i he had been forced to neglect that duty so j sweet and so indispensable to an absent, lover. He had, however, found time to become quite domesticated in Mr. Alford’s family. Mr. Alford was of the first emi nence in his profession, and had two or three other young men under his charge; but it was soon evident that Edward was a first-rate favorite with the mother and ; two daughters at all events. They were fine-looking girls, and who understood how to look their best. They were well dress ed, and it is wonderful how much the hair ‘done to a turn,’ ribands which make a complexion, and an exquisite chaussure, set off a young woman. Laura taught him to waltz, and Julia began to sing duets I with him. Now, these are dangerous em -1 ploymcnts for a youth of one-and-twenty. I The heart turns round, as well as the head I sometimes, in a sauteuse, and then it is dif j ficult to ask these tender questions appro priated to duets, such as ‘Tell me, my heart, why wildly beating V ‘Uanst thou teach me to forget ?’ tec., without some emotion. A week passed by, and the general post man’s knock, bringing with it letters from . I his trustee, who, as an item in his accounts, j mentioned that he had just heard that Miss I Emily Worthington was quite well, put i him in mind that he had not heard from | her himself. Oh ! how ill-used he felt; he j had some thoughts of writing to over-1 j whelm her with reproaches for her rMnrc i lect; b i*, on second thought, he rcsA exce | to treat her with silci.t dis.lain. r lo4j'e : j sure, such a methodot showing his con-1 j tempt took less time and trouble than writ-1 | ing four pages to express it would have j ; done. That evening he was a little out ot j spirits, but Julia showed so much gentle I smypathy with his sadness, and Laura ral | lied him so pleasantly upon it, that they j pursued the subject long alter there was I any occasion tor it. The week became 1 weeks—there was not a drawback to the enjoyment of the trio, excepting nowjmd then'some old friends of papa, to whom we must be civil; not,’ said Laura, ‘ but that 1 would put tip with one and all, ex i cepting that odious Sir John Belmore. I Edward had been in town two months i and a fortnight, when one evening Julia— | they had been singing‘Meet me by inoon j light alone’—asked h’.m to breakfast with them. “I have,” said she, “some com- I missions, and papa will trust me with you. ; He breakfasted, and attended the blue- I eyed Julia to Swan and Edgar s. “ Now , I have some conscience I” exclaiined she, with one of her sweet languid smiles Ju lia had an especially charming smile—it so flattered the person to whoiri it was ad dressed. It was that sort of smile which it is impossible to help taking as a person al compliment. “ I have a little world of shopping to do—bargains to buy—netting I silks to choose: and you will never have patience to wait. Leave inc here for an hour, and then come back—novi be punc tual. Let me look at your watch—ah ! j it is just eleven. Good-bye, I shall expect you exactly at twelve.” »She turned into the shop with a most 1 becoming blush, so pretty, that Edward I a mind to have followed her in, - ' Moore’s lines— ■K a ' on k v Hreathe the air, JI air that’s breathed b_v thee;” j , ’■»; a natural antipathy to shop- ' even the attraction of a blush, and a blush espicially of that attractive j sort, one ot> your own account—even that . was lost in the formidable array of ribands, ' silks, and bargains— “ Bought because they nifiy be wanted, Wanted because they may be'had.” Accordingly, he lounged into his club, and the hour was almost gone before he arrived at Swan and Edgar’s. Julia told ■ him she had waited, and lie thought—what. a sweet temper.she must have not to show ! I the least symptom of dissatisfaction.! on I the contrary, her blue eyes were even ' [ softer than usual. By tlie time th-. . I rived at her lather’s door he had as >.» ar rived at the agreeable conclusion, that he could do no wrong; Tiieyparted hastily, for he had a tiresome business appoint-! I ment; however, they were to meet in the i evening, and a ihousand little tender things , which he intended to 1 say occupied him ! till the end of his walk. ATHENS, GEOE&UA, SATSJK3SAY, JANUARY 51, SSS7. When the evening came, and after a toilette of that particular attention which in nine cases out of ten one finds leisure to bestow on oneself, he arrived at Mr. Alford’s house. The first object that caught his attention was Laura looking, as the Americans say, ‘dreadful beautiful.’ i She had on a pink dress direct from Paris, that flung around its own atmosphere de rose, and nothing could be more finished than her whole ensemble. Not that Ed ward noted the exquisite perfection of all the feminine and Parisian items which completed her attire, but. he was struck by the general effect. He soon found him- I self, he scarcely knew how, quite devoted to her; and his vanity was flattered, for she was the belle of the evening. It is amazing how much our admiration takes its tone from the admiration ofotbers, and when that is added an obvious admi ration of ourselves, the charm is irresisti ble. “Be sure.” said I,aura, in that low, I confidential whisper, which implies that ■ only to one could it be addressed, “ if you j see me bored by that weariful Sir John Belmore, to come and make me waltz.— ! Really, papa's old friends make me quite undutiful!” There was a smile accompa nvingthe words which seemed to say, that it was not only to avoid Sir John that sue desired to dance with hiniself. The evening went off most brilliantly; and Edward went home with the full in tention of throwing hiniself at the fascin ating Laura’s feet, the following morning; and, what is much more, he got up with the same resolution. He hurried to Ilar ley-street, and—how’ propitious the fates are sometimes!—found the dame de ses pensees al@ne. An offer is certainly a des perate act. Tlic cavalier— “ Longs to speak, and yet shrinks back, As from a stream in Winter, though the chill Be but moment.” Edward certainly felt as little fear as a gentleman well could do, under the cir cumstances. He, therefore, lost no time in telling Miss Alford, that his happiness was in her hands. She received the intel ligence with a very pretty look of surprise. “Really,” exclaimed she, “I never t hought of you but as a friend; and last night I ac ce| tn 1 Su - John Belmore! As that is his ; t. ’ must go down to the library to • ! <m; we should not be so interrupt- ed i. oidi morning visitors !” She disappeared, and at that moment Edward heard Julia's voice singing on the stairs. It was the last duet that tiiey had sang together. 1‘ Who shall school the heart’s affection ! Who shall banish its regret! If you blame my deep dejection, Teach, oh, teach me to forget!” She entered, looking very pretty, but pale. “ Ah,” thought .Edward, “ she is vexed that I allowed myself to be so en grossed by her sister last night.” “So you are alone,” exclaimed she. “I have such a piece of news to tell you ! Lau ra is going to be married to Sir John Bel more, How can she marry a man she positively despises ?” “It is very heartless,” replied Edward, with great emphasis. “ Nay,”replied Julia, “but Laura could not live without gaiety. Moreover, she is ambitious. I cannot pretend to judge for her; we never h ad a taste in common.” “ i'Aii,” said Edward, “ would not have I tunnel wus..^ jC |f away i” A) j she. looking down, “the heart is my world!” And Edward thought lie hac| never seen any thing so lovely as the deep blue eyes that now looked up full oftears. “ Ah, too convincing, dangerously dear; In woman’s eye, th’ unanswerable tear.” Whither Edward might have floated on the tears of the ‘ dove-eyed Julia’ must re main a question; for at that moment—a most unusual occurrence in a morning— Str. Alford, came into his own drawing room. “So, Madam,” he exclaimed in a voice almost inarticulate from anger, “ I know it all. You were married to Captain Dacre yesterday; and you, Sir.” turning to Ed ward, “made yourself a party to the shame ful deception.” “No,” interrupted Julia: “Mr. Rains forth believed me to be in Swan and Ed gar’s shop the whole time. The fact was, I only passed through it.” Edward stood aghast. So the lady, in stead, of silks and ribands, was buying, per haps, the dearest bargain of her life. A few moments convinced him that he was de trop; and he left the father storming, and the daughter in hysterics. On his arrival at his lodgings, he found a letter from his guardians, in which he found the following entered among other items: —“ Miss Emily Worthington has been ill, but is now recovering.” Edward cared, at this moment, very little about, the health or sickness of any woman in the world. Indeed, he rather thought Emily’s illness was a judgement upon her. If she had answered his loiter, he would have been saved all his recent mortification. He de cided on abjuring the flattering and fickle sex for ever, and turned to his desk to look over some accounts to which he was re ferred by liis guardians. While tossing the papers about, half-listless, half-fretful, what, shodld catch his eye but a letter with the seal not broken ! He started from his seatin consternatiph. Why, it was his ( own epistle to Miss Worthington! No wonder that she had not written; she did not even know his address; All the hor-; rors of his conduct now stared hiin f ull in the face. Poor; dear, deserted Emily, what fount her feelings have been ! —He could not bear to think of fhern. He snatched up a pen, wrote to hi;? guardians, declar ing that the illness of his beloved Emily would, if they did not yield, induce him to ’ ike any measure, however desperate: and :j;i! lie insisted on being allowed permis ' Ofi to visit, her. Nothing but his own •. io could satisfy linn of her actual recov ery. He also wrote to Emily, enclosed the truant letter, and the following day set oil’for Allerton. In the meantime what had become of the fair disconsolate ? Emily had certain ly quite fulfilled her duty of being misera- ble enough in the first instance. Nothing could be duller than the little village to which was consigned the Ariadne of Al lerton. Day after day she roamed—not along the beach, but. along the fields to wards the post-office, for the letter which, like the breeze in Lord Byron s calm, ‘came not.’ A fortnight elapsed, when one morning, as she was crossing the grounds of a fine, but deserted place in the neighborhood, she was so much struck by the beauty of some pink May, that, she stop ped to gather it; —alas I like most other pleasures, it was out of her reach. Sud denly, a very elegant looking young man emerged from one of the winding paths, and insisted on gathering it for her. The flowers were so beautiful, when gathered, that it was impossible not to say something in their praise, and .flowers lead to many other subjects. Emily discovered that she was talking to the proprietor of the place, Lord Elmsley—and, ofcourse, apol ogised for her intrusion. He equally of course, declared that his grounds were only too happy in having so fair a guest. Next they met by chance again, and, at last, the only thing that made Emily re- j lapse into her former languor was—a wet | day; for then there was no chance of see ing Lord Elmsley. The weather, howe ver, was, generally speaking, delightful— and they met, and talked about Lord By ron—nay, read him together; and Lord Elmsley confessed that he had never un derstood his beauties before. They talked also of the heartlessness of the world; and the delights of solitude in away that would have charmed Zimmerman. One morn ing, however, brought Lord Elmsley a let ter. It was from his uncle, short and ! swset, and ran thus— “ My dear George,—Miss Smith’s guar- j dians have at last listened to reason—and j allow that your rank is fairly worth her I gold. Come up, therefore, as Soon as I you can and preserve your interest with j the lady. What a lucky fellow you are to I have fine eyes—for they have carried the j prize for you ! However, as women are | inconstant commodities at the best. I ad- j vise you to lose no time in securing the | heiress. “ Your affectionate uncle, E.” “Tell them,” said the Earl, “to order post-horses immediately. I must be oil to London in the course of half an hour.” j During this half hour he despatched his ; luncheon, and, —for Lord Elmsley was a perfectly well-bred man.—dispatched the following note to Miss Worthington, whom he was to have met that morning to show her the remains of the heronry : “ My dear Miss Worthington,—Hurried as I am, I do not forget to return the vo- j luine of Lord Byron you so obligingly lent! me. How I envy you the power of re- I maining in the country this delightful sea son—while I am forced to immure myself m hurried and noisy London. Allow me to offer the best compliments of Your devoted serv’t. Elmsley.” No wonder that Emily tore the note which she received with smiles and blush es into twenty pieces, and did not get up to breakfast the next day. The next Week she had a bad cold, and was seated in a most disconsolate looking attitude and shawl, when a letter was brought in. It contained the first epistle of Ed ward’s, and the following words in the envelope : “My adored Emily,— You may forgive me—l cannot forgive myself. Only ima gine that the inclosed letter has by some j strange chance remained in my desk, and I never discovered the error til! this morn ing. You would pardon me if you knew all I have suffered. How I have reproach ed von! I hope to sec you to-morrow, for I cannot rest till I hear from your own lips that you have forgiven •• Your faithful and unhappy Edward.” That very morning Emily left off her shawl, aqd discovered that a walk would do her good. The lovers met the next day, each looking a little pale—which each set down to their own account. Emily returned to Allerton, and the town was touched to the very heart by a constancy that had stood such a test, “Three months' absence,” as an old lady observed, “is a terrible trial.” The guar dians thought so too—and the marriage of Emily Worthington to Edward Rainsforth soon completed the satisfaction of the town of Allerton. During the bridal trip, the young couple were one wet day at an inn looking over a newspapea* together, and there they saw—the marriage of Aliss Smith with the Earl of Elmsley—and of Aliss Alford to Sir John Belmore. 1 never heard that the readers made either of them any remarks as they read. They return ed to Allerton, lived very happily, and were always held up as touching instan ces of first love and constancy in the Nine teenth Century. L. E. L. ■ During the late American war, a soldier from the army at the northward, travelling on fur lough through a part of Vermont, was hailed from the door of a small house by an elderly woman, who perceiving he belonged to the ar my, inquired with the eager, but laudable cu riosity which pervaded ail classes in those dis- i tressing tames —“what news “Dreadful news?” replied the waggish soldier. You don’t, say so !” said the good lady—“ Fray tell me what it is—have the regtilais beat our peo. pie?” —“No—worse than all that,” said the other—“a great body of Indians led on by Brit ish officers, have assembled on the «estern shore of one of the largest lakes, with huge levers, with which they areabout to overturn the lake, and deluge Vermont and al] New- England.” “Bless me !” said she—“what will | become of us!”—and immediately ran in great I consternation to one ot her neighbors, a good ! plain man, but rather better i nformed ; to whom i she. related the dreadful newa, trembling with ! terror. “Don’t be alarmed, my goo 1 friend,” j said the neighbor—“there is no danger—lot; I besid: ;, the natural impossibility ofsitch a thing, j the Lord has made a promise and a sign, by | which we are assured that he will not destroy us with another deluge.” "The Lord i” ex claimed the terrified woman—“//is fjord has no hand in this business —i tell you it 's them are plagucy Indians.” t Hr. SPEECH, (Os Tennessee,) Upon the Resolution of Mr. Wise, proposing a select committee of investigation, and Mr. Pearce's motion to amend the same De cernber 15. Mr. Speaker:—l was, at first, somewhat surprised that the gentleman from Rhode Is land (Mr. Pearce) should be found in opposi tion to this investigation. That gentleman was once the zealous advocate of rfoid scruti ny into all abuses committed by public func tionaries. In an elaborate speech, upon this floor, he once sustained an investigation simi lar to the one now proposed by my friend from Virginia (Mr. Wise.) I allude to the case of the Wiscasset. Gollcctor. But, sir, the gentle man announces the fact that he has changed. He was then opposed to General Jackson violently and bitterly opposed to him—and h> manifested that opposition in conceiva ble way. and upon every subject that arose. But having now become a Jackson man, he has undergone, it seems, a complete political traps formation. And what a change ? his old prin ciples discarded—his mentid vision in total and disastrous eclipse, he has closed his eyes upon fraud, and peculation, and plunder! But, sir, Has it come to this, that the gentle man from Rhode Island is put forward as the champion of Andrew Jackson ? Has that dis tinguished citizen already sunk so low tlifit his fame and reputation are committed to tile keep ing of such hands'? Oh, spectacle, mortify ing and humiliating, to the honest friends and original surmmjlcrs of Andrew Jackson ! those who him, and voted for him ! who advocated his first election upon prmciji’e, and who, unlike the gentleman; yet stand up the dauntless advocates of the same principles? What, must they think, and how must they feel, when they are informed that the President’s reputation as a statesman has fallen into the custody of that gentleman, who, formerly a violent, loathed, and detested assailant; has thr ivvn himself into the current of foe Presi-? dent’s popularity, strong enough td bear even | him along, and is now become his pretend'sd i fulsoiiie eulogist and defender? But, sir; to the gentleman’s olijeCtions, of fat ther his pretended objections, to liie propdsed inquiry. He lias given a striking specimen of the cunning and tact of the Sect to wliich i he belongs, hy the issue which he has made up ' —a false, hypocritical issue : What is it ? Why, forsooth, that it. involves the President’s ! veracity ! that it will be—does the President speak the truth when he says that all the offi cers are “ honest” as well as capable ! mid that he, good tender-hearted,tflan, cannot en dure to hear any thing which infringes, in the slightest degree, upon the veracity of that high functionary ! Under this false and fraudulent I issue tho gentleman takes shelter, and expects I to escape all inquiry, all investigation. Is ar- [ gument required to expose a position so mon- | strous? W ill not every high-minded man in j tlie nation look upon it with scorn and indigna- j tion ? Sir, 1 deny and denounce this as that 1 false isst e which has so lon<j been the shield ; ot the party, and behind which they always : skulk at the slightest approach of danger. The President says they are honest, and the gentleman savs you are not to prove them to be rogues, because that, would be to make out the President a liar. What a position ! Did the President write the paragrah in his message, laudatory of these officers, which the gentleman himself admits is unusual in such a document, and which, I arri sure, has no precedent or parallel? No. sir, not one word of it. and he does net know, at this mo. ■ ment, that it is there. What is it, sir, which these gentlemen, so able and so honest, have : introduced into the message, and now claim ; that it is evidence of so high and sacred a na 1 tore that it cannot beciitmined or impeached? ■ Here it is : . ■ “ Before concluding this paper, I think it due ■ to the various Executive Departments to bear r j testimony to their prosperous condition, and to the ability and integrity with which tiiey have i been conducted. It has been mv aim to en force in all of them a igilant and faithful dis charge of the public business; and it is grati fying to me to believe that there is no just . cause ot complaint, from anv quarter, at the | manner in which they have fulfilled the objects j. I of their creation.” j! Did Andrew Jackson write this sweeping . j certificate of moral character for these gentle , t men ? No, sir; no. I plead ilon est factum. jlt is not his deed. They hUVe fraudulently , smuggled it into bis message, to evade scruti- l ,ny into their Conduct. Instead of stiffing in- I i quiry, it is of itself a cause of suspicion. I I ■ say, sir, that the President did not write it: in | I j support of which averment; I hate evidence' i , satisfactory, at least, to my own mind, and such j i , as should be macle known to this House, to ! > I the country at large, and to posterity. It j . should thus be made known, in order to shield I the name and tame of the President from that ■ . imputation which, in all time to come, would ’ ij attach to them, in consequence of this flagrant . i abuse of the confidence reposed by him in oth- : ers. The coffimittee on the part of the Sen- , j ate, which, according to usage, Was appointed I to wait upon the President at the commenr-e- j i ment of the session, and inform him of the ! readiness of Congress to receive the very rhes ’ I sage in question, foiinfl him extended on a Sick couch, scarb. lv able to raise his hand. On j thb eve of their departure, he urged tlie Sena tor from Terinesseb (Mr. Grundy) to’Come back soon and talk with him; that he was lonesome, wanted bompany, and wished to have his friends about him. The Senator (alas, that it should be necessary for him to in voke the attendance of friends, and of such i friends!) did retur , and remained with the President more than an hour, during which ; time he never alluded to the subject of politics. I He spoke of dying; of the Hermitage, of his hope that he might be spared till he cotild I reach it in the Spring. His thoughts wefe i with his heart, “ and that finis far away;” dtfel- I ling upon other and doubtless holier medita- t tions than writing eulogies upon public func- I tionaries, whose Conduct he was in no situa- i j tion to examine, and who, if they tfere hon- t ) eSt, needed not his testimony to the fact. I But the gentleman from Rhode Island has i j another objection to tile mode of proceeding . ! proposed by my friend from Virginia. He j I says that it is unnecessary, because, by the I j standing Rules ot’ tlie House, ti.e investigation i into al such matters is enjoined, as a duty! up- < 'on the committee of Ways and Means. The t ! Rule alluded to by the gentleman reads as fol- t lows: “It shall be the duty of the Committee i of Ways and Means to take into consideiation I all such reports of the Treasury Department, s and all such pronortitions relative to the reve- < nuc, as may be referred to them by the Hbiise, t vol. iv--vb, &c. Ac. to examine into the state of the tett ral public departments, and particularly info I* l ® laws making appropriations of iiidneys, &)id to report whether the moneys have been dis bursed conformably with such and also to report, from time to time, such provisfoni and, arrangements as tilqv be necessHfjr so to the economy of the Departments; the accountability of their officers.” And ybl jrfo Sientleman, in a subsequent part of his .argu ment. contended that the exercise;by the HoilSe of such a power as is hereby enjoined tfodd one of its standing would Be tidisr franchiseiiient of the heffils of Dejiartihenid. An ex parts tfial and conviction, according id the rules of the common law ! The Rule re ferred to bv the gentleman shows the bn tertained Gy the H-mse in relation to the iifo cessity of such investigations ns the ose foo posed into the state anil condition of the seve ral Departments, with a vieiV tb tlie right ac countabi ity of ptlßilc officers; and the legM disbursement of foe public moneys!,,. , , But, sir, is the Committee of Ways anu Means the appr >priate committee to make 9U, h examinations? Look at the past, HntV long’» a ve complaints of malversation in offico been r tr ging in the ears ot gentlemen ? Boole at the son» a ti O u () f that coniipittee. Its entfif tnan (Mr. Gnibreleng) labors under a politij cal, if not a i»<r a l, dlsabilitv to institute and conduct themwih efficiency* Dare he move in such a cause ? No sir; lie woiild steal hid fate forever. But, it‘hat committee weifo ibF ced by the House into investigation, with what hope of snefiess coufl we rely upon it? The head of each Department would Baud fl ver to the chairmaii of that cowtfiiittb!: Such it statement as lie might choosS to Send here: Whv, sir, it would he like the trial of Reilt ben Whitney. Rcliben has iteeti trjedv ltnd| ad you will he glad to h<snr, acqui|ffid, since the last session. Bat how tried ? Not by a Coin* mitteeof this House? No, sir, he was tried on the. other side of the Alleghanies, whilaf the witnesses and liie prosecutor were a ftißii• sand miles off; tie was tried at Jonesboro’ Tennessee, before the President of the United States; the prosecutor, not rfjy friend from Virginia (Mr. Wise,) but one jiilin who prosecuted Reuben so handsdlhely, that Be has since bt.eri Rewarded by ml Hppointnient.' Reuben was nrfalgried before tli ■ President id a large crowd; the charges dgaindt him so drawn up that they could all be ansd’ered irt bis favor iVithodt touching die trill' i&ffie which involved his guilt or innoeedl'e; 'l’iiey, in ef fect, asked the President—fo’ Reuben a saint; or is he a sinner ? “Huis a persecuted patri| ot, sir; persecuted mi account of his oppqtil tion to th : United States Bank.” said thy, “ <lo you hear that ?” and the shout,* huTT.th fd‘Reuben! was loud and long. But,' sir, the gentleman choses to tf under from the subject before the Hotlse, and carry this politi cal war into Tennessee. This is contrary ♦<> the policy of his State during the late war with Great Britain. She then had a Higher regard for State lines and State sovereignty : her pa triotism was only comnicndUrulh with her small IjrtiitS. He represents the President, as going to the Hermitage on private business, and seems to justify al! which his party attempted to achieve by the President’s visit to Tennessee. A rate visit to the Hermitage! They scHrcety i gave him time to sltyke hands d’lt'l the old fit: ■ mily servants at. tlie Hermitage; He washur i ried from place to place, dragged along thro’ 1 dust itnd heat to phblic meetings, at towns and ! villages; and cross roads, and country Strifes ; carried through Tennessee and Alaoafha ; brought back, and taken through Kentucky; by the way of Cincinnati, to Washington, The friends of Mr. Van Buren resorted to eve ry art to excite and induce him to take an na tive part in the election; and they now talk of a private visit to t|ie Hcrrflitage ! Sir, I was told this morning; ad 1 entered the Capi.' tol. tii.tt dome one of the memlivrs from Ten nessee denied certain facts which every qua there knows to be true. I hope, sir, tlfdi flfl such denial has been made. But, if it lias, I stand ready to meet the gentleman, and main tain the truth of those ficis any where. The President availed the for the course which he said 1 had pursued nt fe| lido t<i'tltb' Hill which contained the appropriation to carry Into effect the Cherol.ee treaty, before he left the eitv, which complaint he frequently repealed on way to the Hermitage. At Knoxville, rs gen. tieman produced the Globe newspaper, which 1 showed that I had voted and spoken in favor of that measure. But it had no effect, for he continued to speak of it as he had done before.' At Sparta, he denouubed my frie.d from Vir*. j gmia, (Mr. Wise.) as a liar. At the house of i .Mrs. Saucers, in Sdiii iris cou.ity. Tennessee; I he stated that my colleague (Mr. Bell?) “told ' twenty lies in one Speech, and knew ffiemto bo lies at the time and that Peytp'n ivas a grea. ■ ter liar than Bell. In passing tHfo'ugh the dis trict of my collegue (Mr. Forester,) his vefy able speech at tile last session of Congress ha ving been mentioned, the President stated,' > “that any man boiild get as good a speech as, that ivritten at Washington for jive dollar ! When asked Ifofc' Mr. HuntsMaij was, iti rela tion to political parties. “ lie’s da the fence,” i said the General, “and no one kao vs which | side lie will fall.” The constituents of ano. tiler one of my colleagues inquired, “Well, 1 I General, what do you think o’s our rupresenta i tive, Mr. Shields ?” “Oh !” said he, ** he’s of no account; turn him out, tiod scud some one in his place iHio is of sonte ifbcount.” I have repeated these things, sir, not on accdiltit of tiny pleasure they afford tf/fe, but because those very gentlemen who were the cause of these exhibitions tire how denying them, Let any man deny this statement who dare., But the gentleman from Rhode Island calls npon us to take “ the bull by the horns.” “to move an impeachment against the President at once”— Says that “he is ac’criu'utaMe for the acts of his ministers," and any attack upon them is in Effect an impeachment of him.” , This is strange doctrink to me. sir." We wish to rope these calfes. and drag them bleating as they go from the Treasury, sos they have been sucking too long already; arid the jren tieman says no, “take the bull by the horns.” Move an impeachment against the President" indeed! He accountable, criniirialltf accoun’ table for the Want of integrity on the part of his ministers ? Was there ever dnv thimr more impudent than this ? Because Genen* Jaclison is a patriot, does it follow th'tft Jteuhnn M Whitney is any thing but i*hat tfib wortd kntfws hi th to be ? ifecahse Genera! Jackson is an honest man. does it folio# that Amos K<m. dall, and all the other “ hirelings.” as he call, them, are honest too? This, sir; is the doc trine o the party-th'e doctrine of men intri whose hands the government of the country k S m' ■ Bu ‘’ sif ’ tl,e in thus himself tinder the protecting manlie of the 1 resident, but displays the usual tact of the party to which he beloiigs. They afe tttf