Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

HA COURIER. na’WHORTER AND 3SK3ALir?G, PUBLISHERS. W^This Paper ii published every Monday and day''afternoon, at $5 00 per annum, payable in ad- e, or $0 00 at th- expiration of the year. ^ Advertisements not exceeding a square, inserted tire time or 6:3 1-2 cents, and 13 3-1 eei.t« for each con tact;. FOR Tilt: GEORGIA COURIER. THE ,cor rr^iPETUoaiTir: A COLLEGE TALE. There are perhaps no recollections of uthful scenes and occurrences, that kc so deep and permanent an impres- n, a3 those connected with the college urse. When the young mind finds it- |lf expanding into vigorous exertion, and t beginning seriously to reflect upon IJrrounding objects, and upon its own pability.to form for itself opinions, sys- ins and principles, it imbibes a degree tf self-satisfaction or complacency, which, u least for the moment, renders it happy, ’hen such a rich fie!d is open to its first bits as the interesting incidents of a ^allege life, where so many sweet flowers deck the path with pleasure, and so few lorns impede the rapidity of its progress ith difficulty or pain, it cannot but con gratulate itself upon the advantages of its filiation. Is it extraordinary then, that after life these halcyon days of liberty Jnd enjoyment, should often be remoni- yiercil with sincere, heartfelt pleasure? r is it surprising that many of the most Hjrivial incidents, connected with it, should e recalled to memory, with all the fond ness of a. lover treasuring some little word ijjir look of his absent mistress? The swept J|tnd tender associations, so intimately lended with them, render them all per- anent, all valuable. The high impor- ance attaciied to tliem at the moment, by mind just beginning to appreciate, would f itself render them extremely durable, he friendships and attachments, the ri- alships and feuds, although only of tern- orary existence, are not forgotten, but re all laid up in the store house of recol- jiection. II A college is a place of preparation for the scones of life into which we imme diately launch on leaving it, and is in fact a miniature world in which are visibly and plainly depicted all the passions, the pre judices, and principles, which we after wards discover in a larger and more ex tensive scale. As in the larger so in this petty society, the motives of action are not plainly developed ; for such is the na tural dishonesty of the human character, that almost the first lesson we are taught is one of disguise and concealment; but the veil by which they are here concealed, is not yet so thick, as to be impenetrable by a discerning mind; and, if with the experience he afterwards acquires, a young man could again be admitted to the private confidential circles of which he once formed a constituent member, he could read without difficulty almost every motive of action. Ilenco an op portunity, for the study of human nature in its most interesting situation, offers it self; when the character is just unfolding itself to view, and when the deeper veils of concealment have not been assumed. In the varie: of talents, dispositions and inclinations there disclosed by circumstan ces, we discover the bent of each one’s mind, and can almost lay down a correct chart of his future history. There we discover the boisterous ambition of the future demagogue, who, profuse in his professions of disinterestedness and friend ship, thinks of nothing bui his own ad vancement ; the more secret and covert approaches of the little intriguer, destined at sortie future day to become the subject or the instrument of petty political con troversy, swelling with the Imaginary im portance of his character ; and the prying impertinence of such as foolishly suppose themselves adapted by nature to the law, and strut by anticipation, in the over whelming applause of their admiring au dience. But on the other hand, the scene is relieved by the greatest variety of noble and generous dispositions; and there friendship and love, as pure as when first transplanted from heaven, generosity as disinterested, and magnanimity as great, as ever were exhibited on earth, are fre quently shewn and render the scene al most a paradise. The kind, peaceable and benevolent dispositions, that make a man a good companion, husband and friend, are developed amidst the greater luxuriance of more splendid, though not more valuable, virtues, upon which are built the hero, the statesman, and the philosopher. But what makes the life most agreeable, is the anticipation of future eminence, wealth, or happiness, which we there so fondly entertain, and the disappointment of which so frequently involves the sequel of c ur li-es in misery, Tn reverting to these . enes, we cannot but blame even' the slight-.-st impatience that we then felt, to rush from our state of preparation upon the bro.ui s' ge of action, and almost wish thai we ceui.i have been permitted for ever t Joe; ..pon the bright visions our happy 1 my ’ en created. Tiie rosy fin gers of Aui i.-re had then just disclosed the dawn of ur day, and promised the delightful sue rise of joy, of honor, and of happiness: we watched their in crease with impafieiH, yet enchanting, anticipations; we beheld the disc break ing upon the regularity of the eastern horizon, and slurring with refreshing and brilliant beams;—it smiles on the tender dew-drop that harms so lovely from the mornintr fl r.-; it sheds abroad nothing bn: felicity, unclouded by the slightest tinge of discontent, and makes all nature gladden to welcome the bright king of day. in the fulness of our hearts, we in dulge in rapturous expressions of delight, and fondly say to ourselves, thus shall it ever be with ns; the dawn of promise has already ripened into a happy, unclouded day; not a mist or shadow bangs over our glorious patli; like the sun, wo have burst forth from the trammels of infancy’s night, upon an admiring world, and our course shall be unimpeded, like his, to the full blaze of meridian honor and re nown. And when at length we share the fate of all things human, and sink to rest, our decline will only be the sweet evening of a long day, and we will fall into repose quietly and without regret, for our course will then be accomplished and our sun of life go down with undiminislied grandeur. In the full tide of anticipated happiness, we cannot stop to notice the little speck in the distant horizon, which we think so in significant, but which may increase to a thunder cloud and overwhelm in an in stant, the brittle fabric of our dreams. A single moment may be sufficient to level them to the dust, and render us miserable for the rest of our lives, or else put a sud den and violent end to them and to us, and heap upon us the ignoble clods of an obscure, neglected grave. Alas! how many young men, just entering upon what • they suppose a bed of roses, are stung by ! the hidden thorns, and by the cold asp, i and then first awake upon the sad realities I of life, with aversion and disgust. The | disappointment sinks into the soul, usurps the throne of felicity, and harrows up to i despair, and too often they fall, the la- I niented victims of disappointed .ambition |and broken happiness. These reflections frequently occur, when I look around &, ask myself, where are all those with whom I associated in college? To attempt to trace their his tory, would be vain; even a very few years make a visible and lamentable va cuum in the prospects, the expectations, &n*d even in the livfis of many. No cir cumstance, however, ever made so per manent an impression or caused so many solitary ruminations, as the extraordinary circumstances of my connexion with one of my class-mates and his melancholy fate. Perhaps a sympathetic oye will bo mois tened with a tear, or a feeling heart will throb with pity, on hearing the story of poor Francis. Very few now living are acquainted with the facts, and those most deeply interested have sunk into the grave. It was at that, period of the college course when the student felicitates himself upon entering the highest and last class, that I became acquainted with a very in teresting young man. He came to join the class of which I was a member, and finding in him many pleasing and conge nial traits of character, I sought his socie ty, and we soon formed an intimacy un usual for so short an acquaintance. He appeared noble, frank and brave ; his j enerous heart oftoB throbbed with ardor in the sacred cause of friendship, and his eye was sometimes bedewed with a tear at the misfortunes of others. His charac ter and habits were more mature and set tled than usual at his age, and although he was frequently in company and showed no marks of dislike, yet he did not appear very fond of society. He seemed to seek it as a refuge from thought; he was com monly cheerful and sometimes even gay, yet seriousness and melancholy were his natural temperament, and his thin visage and absent air shewed that he was not happy. Yet ho never complained, and when asked the cause of his depression, an evasive answer was commonly return ed, or else that he was not sensible of any particular cause. I thought that lie formed ono of those striking and affecting instances of the melancholy of genius, which are so peculiarly interesting, and which enlist every feeling of the heart in to sympathy for its possessor: hence I took peculiar interest in his acquaintance, and felt an ardent desire to divest that habitual depression to which I feared his spirits and health would at length fall a prey. He frequently acknowledged with gratitude my efforts for this purpose, even when they were unsuccessful, and begged me not to give myself any trouble about one “who,” he said, “he thought had been born for unhappiness.” He spent three or four months in college before I became any better acquainted with his history or his misfortunes, than my own conjectures could make me. His usual silence and retirement never allowed him to make any communication unsought; my own delicacy prevented any question on my part, and if the impertinent curi osity of those not restrained by similar motives, should disturb him for a moment, a single glance of his penetrating eye was sufficient to repress any farther advance, j I was satisfied with the enjoyment of his ; society, and determined to remain so, un til accident should reveal his history, if indeed there was any thing hidden con nected with it. My curiosity was, howe ver, mostpowerfully excited by an incident i that occurred about this time. It was in the autumn of 1S2-, that I was taking a long and solitary walk over i the romantic hills that surrounded the \ place in which the college was situated.— | My ruminations and the pleasantness of the evening, caused me to stray far be- j yond my usual walk. Every circumstance | around seemed peculiarly conducive to j the full indulgence of that soothing me- j lancholy, which we are so apt to cherish j and enjoy, when in a solitary moment the j mind reverts to gone-by scenes, and calls j upon memory for those stores of intellec- j tual enjoyment, so beautifully described as being “ pleasing and mournful to the soul.” The woods around no longer presented the gay green garb of spring, or the more intensely green foliage of midsummer; but the the languor that hung around and showed itself in every leaf in the slightest degree tinged with yellow, was extremely interesting. The whispering of the gen tle breeze, which cast a few of those leaves to the ground, and seemed to tell sur rounding nature that winter was approach ing; the silence, the solitude that perva ded would have afforded matter for mor alizing to one far less predisposed than myself. What an apjffopriate emblem, I j thought, of all things human: our friend ships, our love, our hopes, and every af fection of our hearts, have their spring of promise, their summer of completion and accomplishment, their autumn of decline, their winter in extinction. Our very lives have all these variations, and notwith standing the bright anticipations of their spring, the warm luxuriance of their sum mer, they infallibly close in the chill and gloomy winter of death. I was long en grossed in such reflections, and felt indeed that kind of innate sovereignty, that is most perceptible when one, almost un conscious of surrounding circumstances, has involved his whole heart and thoughts in the deepest meditation. I thought myself well acquainted with the paths and roads through the woods, but wiien at length fatigue restored me in some measure to a knowledge of my situa tion, I fouud that I was completely lost. I knew that I had wandered far, but so absolutely bewildered were my senses, that I could not imagine the course that would lead me home, nor the actual dis tance I had gone. Still uncertain, I was wandering about with the hope of disco vering some known object that would di rect my course, -when I was rejoiced to hear the sound of footsteps approaching. I turned and saw a man making most ra pid strides towards me, and advancing with hurried, heedless impetuosity. So sudden was his approach, that I had scarcely time to observe that he appeared to labor under the influence of violent ex citement. In fact his countenance was so completely wrought up into a display of internal violence, that I could not but think that some maniac had escaped from confinement, and was roaming in that un fortunate condition, ignorant and heedless of his danger. But on a nearer view of his features, I thought L recognised those of my friend, notwithstanding their distor tion ; and the belief was indefibiy impress ed upon my mind, that this person was no other than Francis . My view of his person was, however, so fleeting and transient, that I could not absolutely de termine in my own mind, and he had al most gone beyond the reach of my voice before my astonishment allowed me to call his name; and when I called with a loud voice, the only answer I received was the mocking echo. I pursued with a quick pace, but all my efforts were only sufficient to keep within sight of him, and sometimes I could ascertain where he was only by the distant sound of his receding footsteps. When I could catch a glimpse of him, he appeared totally unconscious of my pursuit; yet the vehemence of his gesticulation shewed that he was influen ced by the strongest feelings. I soon lost every trace of him, (such was his rapid flight,) and hopeless of overtaking him, I advanced to the top of a hill, on the side of which I last had heard him. From this commanding situation, however, I obtain ed a distant view of the colleges, which served to put me in the proper direction to reach home. The distance to which I had strayed was much greater than I sup posed, and at the same time the sight of the setting sun gave me no comfortable feelings, with regard to my return. Un der other circumstances I could have ga zed with delight upon the magnificence of the scene, and patiently waited to re ceive from the great dispenser of light and heat, the last ray of his majestic decline, as if a parting blessing; but when the bo dy and mind are both fatigued, it is no time for the enjoyment of the beauties and splendors of nature. [to be continued.} —■ - JLW ADDRESS TO THE FREEMEN OF 31 ARYL AND, From a Convention of Delegates appointed by the people of the State, friendly to the re-elec tion of JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, as President of the United States, and held in the City of Baltimore, on the 23d day of July, 1827. An appeal to the people upon matters of great National concern, is a proceeding that accords with the highest sense of re spect for public.sentiment, and is in entire consonance with the principles of Repre sentative Government. Happily living under a government of opinion, we must always expect that contests of opinion will arise, and it becomes us to enter into such conflicts with the fearlessness that marks freemen—with the just deference for the opinion of others that distinguishes those who are in quest of truth and with a decorum that belongs to the character of our country. A meeting of our fello v-citizens oppos ed to the existing Administration of the Federal Government, havingbeen recent ly held in this City, for the purpose of diffusing among the people of the State, that spirit of discontent, which marks the manifesto they have issued, and of rous ing them to eject the present President of the United States from office, arul to sub stitute General Andrew Jackson in his place. It is from this decision, and Irom the opinions and motives which sustain it, that we now appeal ; and we desire to lay before the dispassionate good sense of the freemen ot Maryland, the reasons of our dissent. Implicit obedience and non-resistance to a ruling power is no part of our politi cal creed—we neither inherit such princi ples from our ancestors, nor imbibed them in any of our schools. The freedom of opinion and of action, is with us a cardin al maxim that we are zealous to maintain in its amplest vigor—yet we think it wise to repress unnecessary contests in our country, that can lead to no public good, aad particularly such as are calculated to produce the greatest excitement through out the Republic. If we could always be sure that these contests originated purely and exclusively from public views, and found no sustenance in personal prejudi ces, private feelings, or in the hope of in dividual aggrandizement, there would be less danger—for the sense of public duty alone will seldom carry men beyond cor rect boundaries, unless coupled with an in flammatory fanaticism that defies restraint. In tu enmuiyuuu fore us, we must be calm and sincere. The question is of too serious importance to permit our predelections and prejudices to be enlisted in fi^rvic^ th? passions are rift agents ttfTxTtrusted in so grave a matter. Neither the dazzling power of military exploit, nor the rich stores of intel lectual'learning, roust be permitted to be guile us on this occasion. Tho welfare of the Republic is at stake, and if we under take to act in that behalf, let us divest ourselves as far as possible, of all that may lead to error ; and regardless of men, de vote ourselves to the cause of the country with the strictest fidelity. Necessarily led to take some view of the present Chief Magistrate of the country and of his measures, as also of the distin guished Soldier who is brought in opposi tion, and of his character, wo are not dis posed to indulge in fulsome eulogy or un merited reproach. Called to lay our views of a great National question before the people, we shall treat these distin guished citizens with becoming respect, and discharge the duty confided to us with integrity and firmness. In resisting the pretensions set up by the advocates of General Jackson to ena ble hint to supplant the present Chief Ma gistrate, it would be severest injustice to consider us wanting, either in respect for the services, or in admiration for the suc cess of that celebrated Military Chieitain. In these points we are not less sensitive than hia -rvarixicat oupporters ; and we are again ready, as we have always been, to celebrate the victory at New Orleans, and to do honor to the intrepid hero who directed it; and should our country un fortunately be placed in a state of war be fore his manly vigor and military taste shall decline, such is our confidence in his patriotism, that we should be happy to see him associated with the gallant defenders of our country, under the direction of an able and firm Administration. In scrutinizing the life of Gen. Jackson, we see nothing that would justify us in considering him qualified for the Chief Magistracy cf this country ; and we mean not to sully, or to withhold any just tribute to his merits by the declaration, that, but for the happy victory at New-Orleans, he never would have been thought of as one of those from whom a selection is to be made to fill the Presidential Chair. If a single brilliant victory is a sufficient claim upon us to elevate a mere military man to the highest civil office, over the heads of all others, be their qualifications what they may, then indeed the pretensions of the General are strong—but if, as we confi dently believe, the sound discriminating good sense of the American people will consider many other important qualifica tions as essential to fit a man for the Chief Magistracy of this nation, we have yet to learn that the General possesses them.— As a member of the Bar, of the Bench, of the State Convention, of the Congress, he has never exhibited himself above the level of ordinary men ; and if in the civil stations to which he has been called, he has been in no manner distinguished by the plaudits of his country, it was because his country was unacquainted with any peculiar merit that he had displayed.— His only talent lies in military life, and there he appears capable of rendering good services to the Republic, and of ga thering fame for himself. But even in military life he has committed errors that should warn us against considering him best qualified for the highest civil station in the Government—errors at several times, emanating, no doubt, from consti tutional hardihood, and an ardent zeal in his country’s service, but which were all calculated to diminish the sanctity of the civil authority. The adherents of the General, in their zeal to support him, have adventurously attempted to draw a parallel between him and the illustrious Founder of this Repub lic—stating, that if General Jackson’s exhibitions of greatness have hitherto been only Military, those of Washington, be fore ho was called to the Presidential chair, were no more—and that as the be lief of Washington’s competency to gov ern as Chief Magistrate, was founded upon his military conduct, that of General Jackson rests upon similar grounds. Let us not yield to the feelings that this paral lel is calculated to excite ; we will treat it more gravely, and reason on it and ex pose its fallacy* General Jackson’s renown is exclusive ly derived from the victory at New-Or- loans, and his rash energies in the wars with the Indians—his correspondence re lates entirely to the limitad duties of the Military service he was then engaged in, and is marked by no deficiency of talent— further than this, we know of no other pretentions of the General to extraordin ary distinction. To compare this minia ture, presented by his friends, with the grand historical painting of Washington’s life,before his call to the Chief Magistracy, that covers the walls of all Christendom, is doing injustice to General Jackson by an extravagant attempt. Not stopping to compare one lucky victory that rescued a city, with a brilliant seven years’ warfare, that redeemed a People, and gave birth to an Empire, through every day and every event of which, the most dispiriting priva tions, the most hazardous conflic s, the most appalling dangers and trying diffi culties were encountered and surmounted by a perseverance as temperate as it was brave, and by a skill as well directed as it was masterly. Washington’s Military campaigns are, from first to last, continu ally interspersed with the strongest eviden ces of his profound and statesmanlike mind, which now constitute some of the richest treasures in the American Ar chives. It was not his successes at Trenton, at Princeton, at Monmouth, at Yorktown, or at any of his well fought fields, that called him to the Chief Magistracy—It was his long and arduously tried fidelity, his uniform temperance under trials, his “ invariable regard to the rights of the civil power, through all disasters and command—It was ihe direction he con stantly gave to the political councils of the country, by his wise and patriotic advice when he was guiding the armies—It was those master-pieces of political wisdom, his addresses to the Governors of the sev eral States, that are now read almost with the admiration of inspired writings, that fixed every eye and every heart upon Washington, as Chief Magistrate of the United States.—And in looking back up on his life, anterior to the year 1789, it is hard to tell, whether his merits as a soldier, were higher than those of a statesman—but of this the world are assured, that neither military power nor success ever made him arrogant, nor induced him even to a doubt ful excess. His military life was the lof tiest example, under all circumstances, of the most temperate exercise of power— of strictest subordination to civil authori ty anc j whilst the heated passions or deep designs of others seduced them to attempt acts of insubordination, Washing ton allayed tho rising storm, and calmly offered himself as a voluntary hostage for his country, that the wrongs of his brother soldiers should be redressed. If General Jackson suffers in this con trast, it is owing to the imprudence of his friends—we have done no more than to perform a duty to the man who was chief in the hearts of all, whose fame must no* be hewed down to reduce him to the di mensions of others, or to subserve the schemes of combinations that are daring, or of ambition that is aspiring. From this view we will turn to offer the reasons and inducements which render us contented with the existing administration of the country—And hero we will frankly declare, that neither favoritism on the one hand, nor antipathy on the other, have any influence over us—For we do not re member to have been called, on any oc casion, to decide a great national question, more free from every bias that would be likely to lead us astray : No circumstance has ever occrred to give rise to a personal predilection that wo could indulge, and surely we can have no prejudices against the Hero of New Orleans. If it had fallen to our lot to have enter tained personal attachment in this case, which we openly disavow, we know that we should find a great palliative in the universal concession, that such attach ments are always venial, and therefore we should not disown it. But if we thought we were guided by unfavorable prejudices, wo should distrust ourselves as led on by the most dangerous of all impulses. For prejudice is either a volunteer that springs up without thought, and leads to error without examination, or it is the weed of the mind that overshadows the heart with its deleterious foliage <fc forbids the growth of every useful germ—it disqualifies those who wear it—it never fails to tyrannize over those against whom it may be direct ed. Our feelings arc not enlisted on this occasion—we are guided by our soberest understanding, and we prefer Mr. Adams, as President, because he is confessedly, both from education and employment throughout his life, the most capable in all respects—and he therefore furnishes the best and safest grounds to expect the most able and beneficial discharge of the ardu ous duties of the exalted station. Beyond this, we have neither wish, nor end, nor aim. A magnanimous people will never with hold the meed of praise that is justly due to the accomplished qualifications or mer itorious services of a fellow-citizen—but a high minded people, who, in all their public acts, keep the national welfare steadily and singly in view, are a little scrupulous of wasting themselves in pane gyrics upon those they design to lift to pa tronage and power. It is therefore we shall not dwell upon the widely known facts of Mr. Adams having received in early life, the best and most extended ed ucation this country could afford—of his unvarying habits of reflection and study— of his being intimately and particularly conversant with the public measures of this country for the last forty years—of his high rank among the men of learning of the world—or of the pledges which are given in his uniformly unexceptionable pri vate character, throughout his whole life. But we shall maintain our opinions and preference on public grounds alone, and upon reasons and views which exclusively appertain to the prosperity of the people and the glory of the country. The work of man, however admirable, is necessarily imperfect; and there is no part of our excellent Federative system which the forecast of its authors and the reflecting wisdom of those who ratified it, thought would be so likely in time to en danger its existence, as the election of Chief Magistrate. Although our form of government was in some parts new, and in others an improvement upon things which had existed before, yet the princi ple of an elective Chief Magistrate was not new, and whilst we were to partake of the advantages of that feature, we were unavoidably exposed to some of the evils to which it had been found subject—a- mong the greatest of which is the train of incidents inevitably flowing from the fre quent recurrence of contests between ri val candidates for that high station. Nor did the founders of the government expect to ward off these evils so much by the limitations and proportions with which they fashionod this part of the constitution relating to the appointment of President, although less objected to than any other part of that charter.— They had a stron ger, and as they thought, a safer reliance upon the sober minded character of the people who were to earry it into effect— in their love of order, their sagacity to discriminate, and in their intelligence and firmness to resist every thing that had a tendency to impair the system. Jealousy, stiife, and local feelings are the dangers against which we have been particularly counselled by our illustrious political Father, and these, unfortunately, are the probable attendants upon a con test for the Presidential Chair. So long confined to Revolutionary worthles, there was much in the chatacter of our admira tion for those Patriots, as well as in the youthful purity of our institutions that for bade these iucidental evils to arise. Wc have now exhausted that store of worth, and have come to men nearer to our times, who, whatever may be their merits, can never experience the unwonted de votion that was paid to their predeces sors. Fertile as our country is in the growth of distinguished men, and propitious as our government is to display them, the expansion of empire, the progress of science, and the increase of population must necessarily augment the number of favorites, and meretorious favorites too who will engross the affections and con fidence of their respective sections of country. From the operation of this af fection and confidence, local attachments, and jealousies, and contests will arise! and, without a check, the nation will quadrennially be thrown into agitation that will become most alarming.—To guard against this impending terror we have nothing to rely on but the salutary influence of established custom, which being founded in wise precaution, in a na tion of intelligence easily acquires force. The first President of the United States having voluntarily retired from office at the expiration of his second term, that voluntary retirement has been construed into an example that has been implicitly followed by every successor Who had an opportunity of doing so and has boon ap proved of bv the People.—Under the sanction of this usage, will it not be wise and prudent to establish (he system of re electing a Chief Magistrate for a second term, except in cases, where the qualifica tions of tho opponent are known to be greatly superior to those of the incumbent —or, where the course of administration is palpably and fatallv prejudicial to the true interests of the country? In the last case, any change is to be sought, and anv hazard will be worthily encountered to extinguish the existing evil. But we demand with frankness and we expect to be answered with candor, if such a state of things, or it such a necessi ty now exists in our country ? Is it even pretended that it does? lias the Oppo sition to Mr. Adams been nndertaken by the friends of Genoral Jackson, because it is known that General Jackson possess es all tho necessary qualifications for the Presidential office, in a superior degree to what Mr. Adams does? Or because the measures of Administration .ore bad, and that they expect snch defects will be re medied by a different course of adminis tration likely to he pursued under Gene ral Jackson? Or was this Opposition determined on anterior to the develop ment ot any measure by this Administra tion ? Or did it originate in a predeter-, mined intent to eject a man from office, who, notwithstanding the generally mild, judicious and able course of his measures, has been so unfortunate as not to have propitiated those who were resolved ne ver to he appeased ? This brings us fairly to the considera tion of the objections urged by tiie Oppo sition, and to the exceptions taken to a few specified measures. Tho first and chief objection urged against Mr. Adams, as promulgated through the presses, and reiteraYed by the late Jackson Convention is, “ that he was made President against the will of the people,” and they have attached to this point in their manifesto, as well as to others, the most copious notes and com mentaries to illustrate and explain the meaning of so dark a position. Wjth all the aid of tho piiosphoricak glare which a political chymistry has shed npon this matter, we are still at a loss to see under what pretext this objec tion is made, unless it is, that Mr. Adams had not the greatest number of votes when brought to the House of Represen tatives. But the constitution, by its un qualified and direct injunction, requiring the Representatives to choose a President “ from the persons having the highest numbers, not exceeding three,” without a shadow of reference either to the fore most or to any particular one of them— the three candidates with tiie highest num bers stand before the Representatives House as if tied, upon a perfect equality, to be judged of by them as by a new body of electors, who are to decide upon “ the man who, in their opinion, may be best qualified for the office.” To require the Representatives to be governed by the will of the people in this case, is to re quire them to be governed by what they have no means of knowing—for when the electors of a state have not voted for one of the three highest candidates—or when the electors of a state are equally divided,„ perhaps between two, neither having the highest numbers, how can the Represen tatives know the popular preference ?—* The rule of obligation, if derived from tho constitution, must be general or not at all —but a rule which requires a representa tive to do what he has no means of ascer taining, and to ascertain which no means are furnished him, is a palpable incon sistency', and must be disowned. Thus the Opposition, in obedience to the Con stitution, would refer the election to the House of Representatives, and at the same time deny to its members the right of making it—an absurdity too gross for commentary. The constitution present ing three candidates to their considera tion, evidently meant to give the Repre sentatives a right of choice ; and we are taught by the contemporaneous exposition of that constitution* that that choice was intended to be guided by the respective qualifications of the candidates presented to the House of Representatives by the electoral colleges. To say that such an election, in strict conformity with the let ter and the established meaning of the constitution is made against the will of the * Messrs Jay. Hamilton, and Madison’s Fede ralist EDGE CUT OFF