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THE SOUTHERN’ SENTINEL Is published every Thursday Morning, IN COLUMBUS; GA. BY WILLIAM H. CHAMBERS, editor and proprietor. Ta whom all communications must be directed, post paid. OJftci on Randolph Street. Tefrtt* of Subscription. One copy twelve months, in Kftvance, - - §2 50 Not in advance, - 300 ” “ Six “ “ “ - 150 W here the subscription is not paid during the jroar, 15 cents will be charged for everv mouth’s delay. No subscription will be received lor less than six months, and none discontinued until all arrearages are paid, except at the option of the proprietor. To Clubs. Fire copies twelve months, - 810 00 Ten “ ... J 6 oo tsr The money from Clubs must in all cases ac company the names, or the price of a single subscription will be charged. Rates of Advertising. One Square, first insertion, - - - 81 00 “ “ Each subsequent insertion, - “ 50 A liberal deduction on these tenns will be made in favor of those who advertise by the year. Advertisements not specified as to time, will be pub lished till forbid, and charged accordingly. Monthly Advertisements will be charged as new Ad vertisements at each insertion. Legal Advertisements. N. B.— Sales of Lands, by Administrators, Ex 'peutors, or Guardians, are required by law to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of 10 in the forenoon, and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court Wuso in the county in which the land is situated. No tices of these sales must be given in a public gazette sixtv days previous to the day of sale. Sales of Neoroes must be made at a public auction on the first Tuesday of the month, between the usual ■hours of sale, at the place of public sales in the county where, the Letters Testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship, may have been granted, first giving sixtv [ days notice thereof in one of the public gazettes of this Mtate, and at the door of the Court House, where such a!eo are to lie held. Notice for the sale, of Personal property must be given in like manner forty days previous to the day of sale. Notice to the Debtors and Creditors of an estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land, must be published for ror'R MONTHS. Notice for leave to sell Negrof.s must be published for tour months, before any order absolute shall be made thereon by the Court. Citations for Letters of Administration, must be pub lished thirty days—for dismission from administration, monthly six months —for dismission fioin Guardianship, rORTY days. Rules fort lie foreclosure of a Mortgage must be pub- | lulled monthly for four months —for establishing lost ; papers, for the rvf.i. space of three months — for com- j Silling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a ; ond has been given by the deceased, the full space ol j THREE MONTHS. Publications will always be continued according to | These legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. SOUTHERN SENTINEL Job Office. HAVING received anew and extensive assortment of Job Material, we are prepared to execute at this office, all orders for JOB WORK, in a manner which can not be excelled in the State, on very liberal terms, .and at the shortest notice. We feel confident of curability to give entire satisfac tion in every’ variety of Job Printing, including Books, Business Cards, Pamphlets, Bill Heads, Circulars, Blanks of every description, Hand Bills, Bills of Lading, Posters, dpi’. dj*c. In short, all descriptions of Printing which can be ex ecuted at any office in the country, will be turned out with elegance and despatch. County Surveyor. THE undersigned informs his friends and the Planters of Muscogee comity, that he is prepared to make official surveys in Muscogee county. Letters addressed to Post Office,Columbus, will meet with prompt atten tion. WM. F. SERR ELL. County Surreyor. Office over E. Barnard A Co.’s store. Broad St. Columbus, Jan. 31,1850. 5 ly NOTICE. THE Unit name of “M. H. Dessau, Agent.” is changed, from this date, to M. H. DESSAU. Columbus, Feb. 7, 1850. 6 ts JAMES FORT, ATTORNEY AT LAW, HOLLY springs, miss. July 4, 1850. 27 fun Williams, Flewellen & Williams, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, COLUMBUS, GEORGIA. May 23, 1850. 21 ! Williams & Howard, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, COLUMBUS, GEORGIA. ROBT. R. HOWARD. CHAS. J. WILLIAMS. April 4, 1850. G ts J. D. LENNARD, ATTORNEY AT LAW, TALBOTTON, GA. WILL attend to business in Talbot and the adjacent counties. All business entrusted to his care will meet with prompt attention. April 4, 1850. If ly KING & WINNEMORE, Commission Merchants, MOBILE, ALABAMA. Dee. 20,1819. [Mob. Trib .] 15 ts THIS PAPER IS MANUFACTURED BY THE Rock Island Factory, NEAR THIS CITY. Columbus, Feb. 23,1850. 9 ts Marble Works, East side Broad St. near the Market House, COLUMBUS, GA. HAVE constantlyon hand all kinds of Grave Stones Monuments, Tombs and Tablets , of American Italian and Irish Marble. Engraving and caning done on stone in the host possible manner; and all kinds of Granite Work at the shortest notice. JOHN H. MADDEN. P. S.—Plaister of Paris and Cement, always on hand for sale. _ . „ Columbus, March 7, 1830. 10 ti NORTH CAROLINA Mutual Life Insurance Company. LOCATED AT RALEIGH, N. C. rpHE Charter of this company gives important advan- I tages to the assured, over most other companies. The husband can insure his own life for the sole use and benefit of his wife and children, free from any other claims. Persons who insure for life participate in the profits which are declared annually, anu when the pre mium exceeds 630, may pay one-half in a note. Slaves are insured at two-thirds their value tor one or five years. Applications for Risks may be made to JOHN MUNN, Agent, Columbus, Ga. 1 Office at Greenwood &. Co.’s Warehouse. Nov. 15, 1849, tt WANTED. AAA lbs - R A<; S. Cash paid for clean cot I.’ f ’ *•’ ‘v'\* ton or linen rags—3l cents per pound, when delivered in quantities of 100 pounds or more ; and 3 cents when delivered in small quantities. For old hemp, bagging, and pieces of rope, 11 cents, delivered either at Rook Island Factory or at their store in Co lumbus, in the South comer Room of Oglethorpe House. D. ADAMS, Secretary. j Columbus, Feb. 28,1830. 9 ts TO RENT. TILL tlte first day of January next. The old printing office room ol the “Muscogee Democrat” Apply at this office. ts- M Globe Hotel, BUENA VISTA, MARION CO., GA. ftY J. WILLIAMS; March 14, 1860. U ts JUST RECEIVED, A LARGE lot of Miscellaneous and School Book*. Also a large and beautiful assortment of Stationery, fine Letter and Note Paper. Envelopes, Ac. deGRAITENRIED & ROBINSON. April 13 VOL. I. THE SEAMSTRESS. BY M. T. CARPENTER. All the day long and half of the night Her needle she busily plied— Haggard and worn, a pitiful sight, She labored, yet food was denied. Winter winds blew her wretched home through, Yet the fire was dead on the hearth ; Hungry and cold, with shame be it told, That ever such scenes are on earth. Low the light bums—her needle and thread Must haste or the light will be gone ; Pay for the work to purchase her bread Is withheld till the garment is done ; Flickering the light, in middle of night, Goes out as the last stitch is drawn ; Weary and chill, on her pallet so ill, She seeks for repose till the dawn. Morning at last, with joy-giving beams, Illumines the halls of the blessed, Who, through the night, in slumber’s sweet dreams, Their wann, downy conches have pressed ; Gloomily fall those beams like a pall, On the homes where wretched ones stay, Where scarce begun their rest when the sun Warns them to labor away. But unto her, the seamstress, though young, The morning brings anguish ana tears — Tears, scalding tears, by sternest want wrung, And she in tne spring of her years. Cheerless and drear her home doth appear, So desolate, squalid, and bare, And hours of toil by the midnight oil Will bring but a scanty meal there. Look on that form, once faultless and fair— On that cheek where once bloomed the rose; Labor and want, and hopeless dc-pair, At once their sad havoc disclose. Strange is it not, ifshe, on whose lot The sunshine of hope never gleams, Still should remain as free from all stain As dew in the mom’s early beams l Stingingly cold, a bleak winter's day, Yet fuel and food she has none; Cold to go forth, but colder to stay, She folds up the garment last done ; Scantily clad, with heart worn and sad, She. ventures abroad in the blast; Woful to toll, the pence earned so well Will sparingly break her long fast. Day after day, and night after night, She is working and wasting away ; Striving so well, oh! say, is it right That want on her young form should prey. Blest ones of earth, around whose warm hearth The cold winds never may play, Look not with scorn, on the seamstress lorlom, Whose life is one long winter's day. Even though she, the wretched and worn, Depart lroin the path of the pure ; Pause ye and think how drear her life's morn, How much she was born to endure ; Let her wants hide the errors which pride Is ever the first to contemn ; Think of the grief that found no relief, And pity before ye condemn. MR. CUSHING’S ADDRESS. Fellow citizens: We have disposed of one of the objects for which we have assem bled here. There remains another, not lo cal in its nature, but as wide as the limits of j our common country; for wheresoever on the ; continent of the New World the starred ban ner of our nationality is unfurled—where soever, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, in all that broad expanse of lake and river, of moun tain and of plain—wheresoever springs up one blade of corn from the earth, or quivers a waterfall under the mill, or ascends on high the smoke of the engine or happy hearts shel ter themselves under roof-trees of home— : wheresoever, I say, there lives and breathes ; an American, shall this day be consecrated | to the memories of the Declaration of Amer ; icans joy by old and by young. It shall be celebrated with mutual congratulations, in view of our country’s grandeur, wealth, and | power. It shall be celebrated with thanks to the Almighty God, vouchsafed to make of the thirteen colonies one people. And it shall be celebrated by us, at least, with fervent prayers to Almighty God, that he would con tinue to make of the thirty States one people —one great glorious, indissoluble Union. Yes, fellow-citizens, the Union is my theme. Now, when the currents of lalse doctrine are sapping the foundations of the Union, and the waves of perverted passion are dashing against the pillars of the constitution—now is not a time for indulging in the sounding generalities of a vague wordy patriotism.— Now, on the contrary, it behooves us to con sider what the American Union has done for us; what it is—whether it be worth the hav ing; and if so, how is it to be preserved in despite of faction and fanatacism, whether at the North or the South. And that, I repeat, is m} T theme this day. 1. What has the Union done for us? To answer this question, it needs to go back to the time when, seventy-five years ago, this ■ day broke on our fathers luridly amid the storms of war; to follow onward the course of our country to the present hour; and then to pause, and look around on its present con dition. When the Declaration of Independence | went forth to the world, a proper constitution- j al government—that is, a social fabric delib- j erately commenced from the corner-stone of | universal natural right, and built up in all the symmeterv, beauty, and strength of a perfect whole—was a thing yet unknown on earth, | and to be attempted by us for the first time in the history of man. A population of only two millious of souls, 1 scantily scattered along the narrow belt of; land between the Alleghanies and the At- ! lan tic ocean constituted the people Os the Unit ed Colonies. Beyond the mountains was a j vast wilderness the lair of the wild beasts and ! of the human savage. Our public resources were nothing, save the strong arms and strong- ; er hearts which we inherited from our Brit- 1 ish sires, and the spirit of independence, per sonal and national, which had been diffused among us in the shadow of the secluded for- i ests Os the New World. Two generations only—that is, two of the average periods of human activity—-have since i elapsed. They were our grandsires who founded the United States. But now where and what are we ? Our population has filled i up its original seats. It has swarmed across the i ’ Alleghanies, and occupied with its industry, ; its power, its principles, its civilization, the j ! vast and fertile valley of the Mississippi. | The remote Rocky Mountains have proved jno barrier to progress. It now stands upon j the shores of the Pacific, with expansive en- j : ergies unabated, regretful, not like Alexander J I in the limits of India, that no kingdom remains j to be conquered, but that no wildernesses are j ; left to be reclaimed by the hand of in- j j dustry from the dominion of uncultivated Na- j | ture. Nor in the wrestle with Nature only i have we shown our manhood; for science, | learning, art have also risen up and flourished I under the vjvyfving influences of prosperity @l)c poniljcrtt .Sentinel. and freedom; and all that appertains to ma terial as well as moral greatness —whether in the cultivation of the earth or in advance ment ol mechanic art, manufacture, and com merce—we, the once feeble child of England, j low range side by side with our great parent, ; while the nations, distanced by us in the race of wealth and power, gaze on our marvellous I progress with admiration and with awe. Nay, ; we have gone twice through the test trial of j a foreign war: one with Great Britain, in | which, if we gained no greater honor, we, at least, gained this, of contending on equal terms ’ and with equal success against the Queen of I Nations ; and another with Mexico, in which, | from Palo Alto to Chapultepec—whether un j der the lead of Scott or Taylor—wherever the ■ flag of the Union waved, it still waved, in ; front of the fight, the labarum of victory. And j through the whole period of this our unparal j leled growth in greatness, we, and we alone, ! of the nations of Christendom, have exhibit | ed the spectacle of a people to whom e vil war is unknown, among whom no example I exists of death for political cause, and who i have lived in unbroken domestic tranquility i under the regisof the Constitution. 2. Is, then, the Union—the source of all j | these priceless blessings—worth having ? j ! Yes, in the madness of men to whom supera- | | bundant felicity seems a burden, we have j ; now come to calculate the value of the Union, j ! That, 1 think, surpasses our calculation. i | When we shall have passed those glorious ! j gates of our political paradise which sepa- j i rate the known from the unknown, then, like j j the fallen Adam and Eve, gazing miserable I i and repentant, where, to bar their return. “The brandished sword of God before them blazed Fierce as a comet”— then, I say, it will he for us to “choose” like them one new “place of rest.” Where shall | that place be ? You, who seek to accomplish | objects for the attainment of which you clam i orously and ostentatiously avow your readi i ness to trample on the Bible to-day and the i Constitution to-morrow, because they both stand in your path; you who set up your moral conscience against the former, and your political conscience agains the latter— of you I ask, what are the institutions and the political condition for which you propose I to give the people of the United States, in ex- J change for our constitution, and the Union : of which it is the charter. That in the overthrow of the constitution and the disruption of the Union, our national wealth is to be destroyed; that the produc tion of those great agricultural staples on which our prosperity depends is to cease for us; that our manufacturers are to languish and expire ; that our ships are to rot unem ployed :—for all this you, in the zeal of your assumed philanthropy, do not care. But can you expect, can you be so blindly visionary as to believe, that the bonds of this Union are to be rent assunder by violent hands, and for I the express purpose of a revolutionary social I change in relation of the white and the black | races of the country ? Can you pretend to ■ think, I say, that the political equality of | those races is of a sudden to be brought about, | except by force? You know it is so; and j i the first step, therefore, in the constitutional change for philanthropy’s sake, is the organi zation of hostile republics, plunged at once in to war —civil war, social war, —all that in warfare, foreign or domestic, there is combin ed of deadly, of atrocious, of horrible! I have endeavored to picture to myself that republic of New England, to the adoption of which the inconsiderateness of many among us, the perverseness of others, and the crim inally ambitious vanity of a few, are, by their assaults on the Union, endeavoring to bring the people of Massachusetts. We dissolve the Union under the impulse of a blind, bigoted, and one sided zeal in the pursuit of our own opinion. We dissolve it for the express pur pose, as already stated, of imposing on the people of others of the now United States, a violent and revolutionary change in their so cial relations. We dissolve it in the spirit of ‘■ fanatical aggression and fanatical hatred | against them, and they, of course, are to hate J us with proportional intensity. I pass over that war of crusading philanthropism on the one side, and of passionate self-defence on the other, which I have already foreshadowed as the necessary consequence of disunion, under such circumstances. We of the six-striped I flag of New England shall have at length ! paused a moment in oureourseof meddlesome madness to examine the internal condition of Massachusetts. When that dread day of reck oning between union and disunion arrives, at some chance interval of truce between us and our enemies, let us reflect how and where 1 Massachusetts will stand. We possess, and j can possess, none of the great agricultural sta ples which fill the channels of commerce. We : depend ou importation from abroad for the | very bread we eat. Those great producing and consuming States, which we have been marching our armies and sending our fleets in | the cause of abolitionism, have either been ! broken down in the contest, and neither pro duce nor consume, or they have come out of j struggle victorious and vindictive. In either case, our fisheries no lon<rer find a market at I the South, which will have an abundant sup -1 ply from the British provinces. Our ships | are excluded from the ports of the South by ! differential duties, and our ship owners have transferred themselves and their capital to the ; South, or to some neutral State. Our manu factures have no longer the markets of the | severed States secured to them by protective ! duties, and they encounter a ruinous compe -1 tition, either local or foreign, in every point of i the South and West. And then, with pro- ductive industry paralized, with passions in flamed by political disasters, conies that cri- j sis of domestic conflict, which, in like circum- j stances, has come on other republics, which effaced all the glories of learning and art in Greece, which prostrated the colossus of Ro man greatness, which ruined the once flour ishing cities of mediceval Italy—that conflict between the Have-alls and the Lack-alls—in j the progress of which, when the demons of party and of anarchy shall have done their work, then over desolate fields, and ravaged dwellings, and depopulated cities,there gleams omnipotent the bloody sword of the conquer er and the tyrant, to wreak upon you the ven ; gence of a justly indignant God ! That will be what we are to have instead of the Union. All experience teaches it. No casuistical sophistry of tampering with public duty, un j der pretence of a conscience above the Bible and the.constitution, can avert it. That mis : erable wreck of our greatness will bo your New England republic. Therefore, to the question, whether the Union is worth having, COLUM&LS, GEORGIA, THURSDAY MORNING, AUGUST 8, 1850. I reply, that it is not only to be cherished for all of good which it gives, but also, for all of unutterable ill which its dissolution, for such cause and under such circumstances in evitably involves. 3. What, then, is the l nion ? I reply that 1 it is/ in the first place, the letter of the writ ] tetf Constitution, defining the rights to be held, j and stipulating the duties to be performed, j by the Federal Government, by the States, j and by the people of the United States, and ! to which every man owes lawful allegiance, ; and against which public law no man lias ; any more or other right to set up his individ ■ ual conscience, than he has against the mu ; nicipal laws enacted by any one of the States j for the protection of property or life within ; its borders. And, 1 reply, in the second place, that the Union is, above all, the spirit of the constitution—that is, the sentiment of nation- the love of country, engendered by birth, by the ties of domestic life, bv com munity of historical associations, and by the sense of benefits conferred and interests pro tected and promoted by the immortality of I the Union. | The letter of the constitution is the materi | al body, changeable, perishable, corruptible ; j j the spirit of it is the immaterial soul, which ‘ i breathes into the inanimate elements the ! | breath of life, and makes of it a sublime and j I beautiful creation of immutability and of j ■ heaven. 1 This—the spirit of the constitution, the sen- ! i timent of nationality, the feeling and emotion ; ;of Americanism —is the true Union, the only j ! Union worth having, the only Union possible j : to keep. When the American wanders into other re- \ gions of the earth, then it is that he feels and J appreciates the true, vital spirit of the consti tution. Whether, borne along by the wind and wave, he walks the deck of his gallant ship, ns her keel cleaves the pathless wastes of the illimitable ocean, or lingers amid the palaces of religion, and art, and power, in re fined and populous Europe, or explores those oriental solitudes whose hallowed associations are eloquent, as it were, with voices from on high, or inspects the antique civilization of ; the thronging millions of Asia, or partake of the daily march and the nightly bivouac on j ’ the lofty plateau of the New World, then it is , that he feels he has a country —a country to ‘ love, to be pround of, to defend, and to uphold ’ against all enemies; and that country is the j Union. I have tried it, and I know it. Neith er the pine of Massachusetts nor the palmetto of Carolina symbolizes to him all there is ; dear in the memories of home, and of glori- . ous in the name of country. No ; the inspir ation of hope, which no reverses can extin guish—the impulse of courage, which no dan gers can daunt—these are identified in our breasts only with the stars and stripes of the ! Union. 4. How, then, is the Union, so dear to ev ; cry patriotic heart, and of such inestimable value to all of us, to be preserved? 1 reply to this question, by stating how I think it may i be destroyed ? or at least how you, the peo ple of’Massachusetts, if you labor diligently ; and zealously in that view, may do much to j 1 promote and finally consumate the dissolu- i tion of the Union. Desiring and intending to dissolve the Un ion, you will, in the first place, as you have j already done, knowingly and of malice afore- ; thought, infringe as a State upon express pro- j visions of the Constitution, for the avowed : purpose of injury to the citizens of other ! States. You will, in the second place, as you have already done, maintain such unconstitutional legislation on the ground of your conscience not permitting you to execute the injunctions of the constitution—thus demonstrating to ; the other States of the Union that no compact of association with you is of any avail, since ; you in effect claim the privilege of disre- j garding the law of the land at pleasure, and j of being dispensed, not by any papal authori- j ’ ty, but by your own capricious conscience, jor pretence of conscience, from keeping | your implied engagements, or even your sol emn, express oath of fealty to the Union. By these acts and doctrines, steadily perse vered in, you, the State of Massachusetts, may hope to succeed in dissolving the Union, so far as that consists of a written constilu tional compact. Os the individual citizens of Massachusetts, each and all may do much to the same end, by exerting themselves to kill the spirit of the constitution. In this aim, you will let pass unimproved no occasion for violent, habitual, systematic ! misrepresentation and denunciation of the character and principles of your fellow-citi zens of other States. In order to do this more thoroughly, you will establish newspapers, form societies, and hold anniversary and oth er meetings, for the sole or chief object of exaggerating their faults and maligning their motives and actions. If accustomed to writ ing or public speaking, you will publish books or pamphlets,or perambulate the countrv,deli vering lectures in the same sense. And if you hold any station conferring on you authority as one of the religious, moral, or political guides of society, you will not fail to make your office the special means, as much as pos sible, of disseminating such obloquy and de ! traction. Thus you will eventually succeed ; in completely alienating from you the regard \ of the citizens of other States, and preparing : them to accept the disunion you tender to them, and to change readily from the con dition of your countrymen to that of your for eign enemies. But the people of the several States must | co-operate in the performance of political acts, without which no common government can exist among them, and the Union expires of itself. You are to elect a Congress to en act and a President to execute the laws of the j Union. If you sincerely desire disunion, as would appear from the acts and language of ; many, you will accordingly make the elec- ! tion of the President a merely sectional ques tion ; and you will be careful to vote for no person as member of Congress, unless he will previously pledge himself to hold such opin ions and propose or support such measures i as shall render it impossible for him to co-op- | erate with the members of Congress from other States in the enactment of any laws for the public good. If one of your representa- j tives in Congress dedicates himself to the ; task irobittering sectional prejudice, inflam ing resentments, and resisting all measures of conciliation, peace, and constitutional har mony, him you will glorify and maintain ; for he is doing voiir work in furthering the dis solution of the Union. But if one of vour j representatives presumes to speak to you of ! 3 ? our duty as good citizens, to appeal to your constitutional engagements, to plead for jus | tice, moderation, wisdom, common sense, him crucify; for he stands in the way of your ; endeavors to dissolve the Union! If by all these means and appliances you ! do not accomplish your object, t on need take but one step more, and the result is sure. You violate the constitution. A’ou tell the other parties to it that you do not consider yourself bound by an} 7 engagement you may have made with them, however deliberately in time, however solemnly in form. By per severing calumny of your fellow-citizens, you have at length got them to hate y T ou sufficient ly. You will suffer no public functionary of j ■ vours to co-operate with them in common ; j councils of the nation. What remains to be j i done ? But one thing—namely, to assure the other States that it is not for their interest any j longer to bear with you ; and this you now do in proclaiming that your ultimate purpose, ! your sole object, the main business of your j life, to which you stand-prepared to sacrifice I both the constitution and the Bible, is to bring j upon certain of the United States a violent ! and revolutionary change in their social con- j dition, which is to constitute of itself their ut ! ter impoverishment, and which involves, unde ! niably, and beyond all possible doubt, a san- ! i guinary and destructive war of races, fatal to ; J one of them, disastrous to both, and at the i mere anticipation of which it would seem that j evert’ rightly constituted mind would recoil ! with horror and dismay. Yes, I say to you, | my fellow countrymen of the North, it only needs to satisfy the South that you are in ear nest in the aggressive purposes in thisyespect j which you avow, and for the accomplishment j ot which you have already taken so many : preparatory steps—satisfy the South of this, ■ and vou will then surelv succeed in dissolving : the Union, for 3 011 will have rendered it im possible for the South to remain in it without death and dishonor. Fellow-citizens, I have thus brief!}’ sketch ed the means ley which the Union may be dis solved—nay, by’ which it is now already’ placed in imminent peril. Greatly do they err who imagine that this or that shadow of nullification, whether in Hartford Conventions or Nashville Conventions, really constitutes the dark cloud of danger which is gathering, and deepening, and lowering over the firma ment of the Union. No, the true and only’ serious disunionism consists of acts of system atic aggression of one part of the Union against another, in violation of both the let : ter and spirit of the constitution ; and the true and honest unionism is that which strictly observes the constitutional compact and is an imated by sentiments of kindly’ support, for bearance, good will, and conciliation towards 1 our fellow-members of the Union. Nor is it by 7 relentless application, to any given case, of the mere dead weight of a ma jority that the Union is to be preserved. We of the North are strong in numbers, in votes, in physical force; is it, unionism to violate the letters and spirit of the constitution, and thus to place the South in the alternative of the dishonor to be incurred by passive submis sion to the unjust act of a majority, or to im puted factiousness by resistance to it? No; 1 that is disunionism, as this day, if rightly read, i may serve to admonish us. For what is the ! Declaration of Independence ? We speak of it as the commencement of our nationality. How? Was it not also a solemn act of dis union ?—the declaration of an oppressed 1 minority (the colonies) that they would no longer continue united with ari oppressive ma jority, consisting of the rest of the British empire? Think you that no dear bonds of common country, of religious and political associations, were sundered by the Declara tion of Independence ? Ay, many ; for Eng- : ; land stiff bore, even on the lips of our fore fathers, the cherished appellation of home. 5 But ten years of actual or intended uncon ! stitutional aggression on their rights, ten years 1 of depreciation and denunciation of their character and conduct, ten years of legisla tive warfare on their interest, served to oblit erate from the minds of the minority all im pressions of common nationality with the majority, and produced that Declaration of j Independence. And although England set j a price on the heads of John Hancock and Thomas Cushing, as traitors, yet they well might and they did retort, that the aggressor, and not the aggrieved—that the violator of the public compact, not the victim of the vio- ! lation—that the oppressive majority, not the i oppressed minority—was responsible for the dissolution of the union between the British colonies and the British metropolis. My friends, I repeat, there is solemn admo nition as well as proud recollection for us all in this anniversary. Are we of the State of Massachusetts against this Union or for it? If the latter, as 1 firmly believe, then it be comes us to cease from all those acts which lead to disunion as evidently as the flowing i river does to the sea; it becomes us to desist from wanton vituperation of our fellow citi zens of other States—to desist from disobe dience to the organic law—in a word faithfully to observe and maintain both the letter and the spirit of the constitution. The living men who uttered the Declara tion of Independence, have all passed away from time to eternity. But their spirits watch over us from the bright spheres to which they have ascended. We stand in their presence. They’ shall he our witnesses, as we solemnly renew on this day our vows of unalterable attachment to the Union, and declare that “ Malice domestic, foreign levy, naught” shall prevail against it; and to this “we pledge our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor,” so help us God! Timin? it. A minister in the Highlands of Scotland; found one of his parishioners intoxicated. Next day he called to reprove him for it. “It j is wrong to get drunk,” said the parson. “I ken that,” said the guilty person; “but then I dinna drink as meikle as you do!” “Why, j sir, how is that ?” “Why, gin it please ye, dinna ye ave take glass o’ whisky and wa ter after dinner?” “Why, yes, Jimmy ; sure I take a glass of whisky after dinner, merely j jto aid digestion.” “And dinna ye take a glass o’ whisky toddy every night when ye are gangin to lied ?” “Yes, to be sure ; I just : take a little toddy every night to help me sleep.” “Well,” continued the parishioner, | “that’s just fourteen glasses a week, and about sixty every month. I only get paid every month, and then if I’d take sixty glass es, it wad make me dead drunk for a week. Now ye see the only diflercuco is* that ye time it better than 1.” [From the Southern Press.] Mr. Calhoun’s Exposition j 0F WHAT CONSTITUTES A CONVENTION ‘ OF THE PEOPLE. • j As the attempt has been repeatedly made ! of late to obtain the high sanction of Mr. | Calhoun’s authority to justify the assumption j of sovereignty on the part of “ the people of I California and New Mexico,” it may not be | amiss to give his own expression of his own views on this topic. With regard to the in j habitants of California, he most strongly and | emphatically entered his protest, in the last | words of warning wisdom that he was per- to send forth, before his going into his ! eternal rest; and the distinction which he I then drew between the “ inhabitants” of a i territory and “ a people” qualified to assume : and exercise sovereignty, was as clear as it was conclusive to all unprejudiced under standings. But reference has been made to some de tached extracts from bis previous speeches, by placing a forced construction on which, when -isolated from the context, a charge of j inconsistency, on this point, has been based. To set at rest such a suspicion, as well as to show with what almost prophetic foresight the sagacity of that great statesman had en dowed him, we qtiote the following striking passages from a speech delivered by him in the Senate, on the sth of January, 1837 when the cloud that now impends so darkly over us was but a speck in the horizon. On the occasion of the admission of Michi gan as a State, some irregularities having 1 taken place in the formation of the conven- j tion, which gave the assent of Michigan to j the terms of admission prescribed by Con- ! gross, Mr. Calhoun used the following lan guage : “My opinion was, and still is, that the movement of the people of Michigan, in j forming for themselves a State Constitution, i without waiting for the assent of Congress. | was revolutionary, as it threw off the authori ty ot the United States over the territory,” &c. In the course of the same argument, the following passages occur—the latter of which seems almost prophetic, in view of what is now transpiring: “ The chairman of the Committee on the i Judiciary holds that this self-constituted as semblage hud the authority; and what is his reason ? Why, truly, because a greater num ber of votes were given for those who con stituted that assemblage than for those who constituted the convention of the people of ’ the State, convened under its constituted au- ! thorities. This argument resolves itself into ! two questions—the first of fact, and the sec- ! ond of principle. I shall not discuss the first. It is not necessary to do so. But, if it were, it would he easy to show that never was so important a fact so loosely testified. There is not one particle of official evidence before us. We have nothing but the private letters of individuals, who do not know even the numbers that voted on either occasion; they know nothing of the qualifications of voters, nor how their votes were received, nor by whom counted. Now, none knows better than the honorable chairman himself, that such testimony as is submitted to us to establish a fact of this moment, would not i be received in the lowest magistrate’s court j in the land. But I waive this. I come to ! the question of the principle involved; and j what is it ? The argument is, that a greater 1 number of persons voted for the last conven- ! tion than for the first, and, therefore, the acts ! of the last of right abrogated those of the j first; in other words, that more numbers, with out regard to the forms of law, or the prin- ; ciples of the Constitution, give authority. | The authority of numbers , according to this j argument, sets aside the authority of the law j and the Constitution. Need I show that such j a principle goes to the entire overthrow of ! our constitutional government, and would subvert all social order? It is the identical J principle which prompted the late revolutioii- I ary and anarchical movement in Maryland, I and which lias done more to shake confidence i | in our system of government than any event j ! since the adoption of our Constitution, hut j I which, happily, has been frowned down by i ! the patriotism and intelligence of the people ; of that State.” j *#*#***! “ If you wish to mark the first indications i of a revolution, the commencement of those ‘ profound changes in the character of a peo- ; pie which are working beneath, before a rip i pie appears on the surface, look to the change j of language ; you will first notice it in the altered meaning of important words, and which, as it indicates a change in the feel ings and principles of the peeplcj become, in turn, a powerful instrument in accelerating the change, till an entire revolution is effect \ ed. The remarks of the Senator will illus i trate what I have said. He told us that the terms “ convention of the people” were of i I very uncertain meaning, and difficult to be I defined ; but that their true meaning was, j j any meeting of the people, in their individual j and primary character, for political purposes. | , I know it is difficult to define complex terms, ! that is,to enumerate all the ideas that belong ;to them, and to exclude all that do not; but j there is always, in the most complex, some prominent idea which marks the meaning of j the term, and in relation to which there is i usually no disagreement. Thus, according | i to the old meaning, (and which I had still j , supposed was its legal and constitutional l meaning), a convention of the people in van : ably implied a meeting of the people, either by themselves, or by delegates expressly chosen for the purpose, in their high sovereign authority, in expressed contradistinction to j such assemblies of individuals in their private i character, or having only derivative authori- i ty. It is, in a word, a meeting of the people i :in the majesty of their power in that in ; | which they may rightfully make or abolish ; ; constitutions, and put up or put down gov- j j emments at their pleasure. Such was the j august conception which formerly entered the 1 mind of every American when the terms ‘convention of the people’ were used. But i now, according to the ideas of the dominant j , party, as we are told on the authority of the ■ Senator from North Carolina, it means any meeting of individuals for political purposes, and, of course, applies to the meeting at Ann Arbour, or any other party caucus for party j purposes, which the leaders choose to desig j nate as a convention of the people. It is : thus the highest authority known to our laws and Constitution is gradually sinking to the level of those meetings which regulate the operation of political parlies, and through ! which the edicts of their leaders are an ; nounced and their authority enforced; or, j rather, to speak more correctly, the latter are l gradually rising to the authority of the former. When they come to be completely confound j ed; when the distinction between a caucus and the convention of the people shall be com pletely obliterated, which the definition of the i senator, and the acts of this body on this bill, i would lead us to believe is not far distant, 1 tliis fair political fabric of ours, erected by , the wisdom and patriotism of our ancestors, , and once the gaze and admiration of the world, will topple to the ground in ruins.” [From the St. Louis lntelligohcer.) ! “Who would succeed the’ Vice President V* Since the decease of President Taylor, we have frequently heard the inquiry mude: “ Who would be authorized to act as Presi dent, in ease of the death, resignation, re moval or disability of Mr. Fillmore ?” The Constitution of the United States pro vides, that on a vacancy happening in the office of President, the Vice President shall succeed to that office. It further provides, that in case of a vacancy occurring in the offices of President and Vice President, whether by death, resignation or removal, Congress shall have the power of declaring by law, what officer shall they act as Presi dent, until the disability shall he removed, or : a President elected. On the first of March, 1702, Congress, under the authority of this provision of the Constitution, proceeded to make provision for the happening of strch contingency/ We select from that aet the two follow iug sections, which w ill explain. this matter to any who may he desirous of being informed on the subject: Sec. 9. And be it further enacted—That in case of removal, death, resignation ot fnabili ty both of the President and N ice President of the United States, the President of the Senate pro tempore, and in case there shall he no President of the Senate—then the Speaker of the House of Representatives, for the time being, shall act as President of the ; United States until the disability be removed ! or a President shall he elected. Sec. 10. And be it further enacted — That whenever the office of President and Vice! President both become vacant, the Secretary of State shall forthwith cause a notification thereof to he made to the Executive of every State, and shall also cause the same to be published in at least one of the newspapers printed in each State, specifying that electors of the President of the United States shall he appointed or chosen in the several States within thirty-four days preceding the first Wednesday in December then next ensuing: Provided there shall be the space of two months between the date of such notification and the said first Wednesday in December, but if there shall not be the space of two months between the date of such notification and the first Wednesday in December, and if the term for which the President and Vice President last in office, were elected, shall not expire on the third day of March next ensuing, then the Secretary of State shall specify in the notification that the electors shall he appointed or chosen within thirty four days preceding the first Wednesday in December In the year next ensuing, within which time the electors shall accordingly he appointed or chosen, and the electors shall meet and give their votes on the said first. Wednesday in December, and the proceed* ings and duties of the said electors and others shall be pursuant to the directions prescribed in this act” Gen. Taylor’s Property. We regret to see it stated in a letter to the New York Express that Gen. Taylor’s family are not likely to he as comfortable, in a pecu niary point of view, as was generally slip posed; He left no will. We subjoin the fob lowing extract from the letter referred to : “ When he left for Mexico, it is stated, that in three sealed letters, he left directions for the management of his property in case of his death there, in which was supposed to he a will—and these three letters were not opened till after his burial here—-but no will was among them, and the directions applied to rt property, which is now almost wholly chang ed in its form. “ Indeed, liis family now’ have no home, and therefore, Mrs. Taylor, it is supposed, will not return to Louisiana. Mis plantation on the Mississippi has been sold since he Caine here to enable him to purchase a sugar plan tation below, so that that home is lost. Pre viously, how ever, he had purchased another, I midway plantation, hut that has turned out to I he a very unprofitable piece of property, making no crops, in consequence of being flooded repeatedly. Then the homestead is gone to make one payment on a sugar plan tation, on which something like seventy or ’ eighty thousand dollars must now he due—- and the middle plantation is under water, i Probably, some.of the Presidential salary was relied upon to meet the further payment on the sugar plantation, but that salary is gone. You see from these general facts, that General Taylor died in a very unfortunate time for the interest of his family. He had previously, how’ever, to Col. Bliss’ marriage w'ith his daughter, settled upon her a considerable sum of money. Airs. Taylor was just beginning to like Washington, and intended joining more in so i ciety this coining winter. She was feeling at. hvmc, and had completed all the household arrangements which w ere requisite to put the White House in that order it now’ boasts of, far superior to what in furniture and com fort it has ever before been under any admin istration. u Old Whiter and a favorite dog are con signed to Capt. Boyce to-day, an intimate friend of the late President, living on George j tow'n Heights.” I , A Knowing Boy.—A minister, at church, i approached a roguish looking little Urchin, ! about ten years old, and laying his hand j upon his shoulder, thus addressed him: I “My son, I believe the devil has hold of you. “Ibelieve he has, too!''’ was the significant j reply of the urchin. Laughing in the Pulpit.— Said Mr. C.— ■ ■ - —, a Presbyterian minister of some notoriety, “I J never laughed in the pulpit only on One occasion, : and that came near procuring my dismissal from j the ministry. About one of the first discourses t was called on to deliver, subsequent to my ordi nation, after reading my text, and opening my subject, my attention w r as directed to a young man with a very foppish dress, and a head of ex ceedingly red hair. In a slip immediately be hind this young gentleman sat an urchin,* who ! must have been urged on in his deviltry by the j evil one himself, for I do not conceive the young* 1 ster thought of the jest he was playing off on the spruce dandy in front of him. The boy held his fore-finger in the hair of the young mall about as long as a blacksmith would a nail-rod in the heat, and then placed it on his knee and com menced pounding his finger in imitation of a smith making a nail. The whole thing Was so ludicrous ihat l laughed, the only time that I ever disgraced the pulpit with anything like • mirth. IS O. 32.