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SOUTHERN TRIBUNE. * EDITED AND PUBLISHED WEEKLY, BY WW. It. II AKKI SO H. From Arthur's Home Gazette. The Child's Faitli--n True §tory. BY MRS. MARY ARTHOR. It was a cold evening, and there was hut little fire in Mrs. Hoffman’s stove ; so Title Frantz sat close by it j and though his thoughts were far away, yet a slight feeling of discomfort, from the chilliness, mingled wi ll his fancies. His mother’s wheel kept on—as it al ways did in the winter’s long evenings— with a low humming sound that had till then been-very cheeiful and pleasant to little Frantz ; but, somehow, he forgot to notice it this night. Poor Frantz!—he scarcely looked himself, for his head was bunt down, and his eyes seemed to be looking straight through the floor, so fixed arid intent did his gaze seem. Often and often did the mother’s eye turn to her little boy, for never before had the joy-speaking eye of Frantz been so long bent to the earth ; but still the m th er said no woid, til) at last, a deep sigh catno from the parted lips of Frantz ; then his mother laid her hand softly upon his; yet even that gentle touch started Frantz, so lost was he in thought j and when he quickly lifted his face, and saw the questioning look of his mother, his pent-up thought burst out at once. •'Oil, mother! in a week it will be Cliristmas-day; can I ant have a Christ tnas tree 1” The mother’s face looked sad, but only for a moment ; she knew that the earnest wish of little Frantz was not likely to be jealized ; but she knew, too, that it was best for her boy to learn to bear cheerfully any crossing of his desires which must be, and she spoke more soothingly and gently than usual, as she said— "And what makes my little Frantz set Ills heart on that now 1 He has never had a Christmas-tree before !’’ ‘‘Oh, that is it," exclaimed Frantz ; “I rtcuerhad one. Ever since I was a baby, mother, I have heard of the good Christ child, who brings beautiful gifts to others. Why does he not bring them to me I Am I worse than the rest, mother I” "No—no, Frantz so spoke the mo ther hastily—for in her heart arose a pic ture of the gentleness, the self-denying fortitude of her little boy, in the midst ol trouble ; his patience in sickness, his in dustry in health, his anxious care to help her in all his little hands could do. ‘‘No, no ! my Frantz, it is not that.” "Well, mother, hut is there any rea sun ? Oh ! you do not know how 1 have dreamed and dreamed of a beautiful tree that l should have this Christmas ; it was full of golden fruit and lighted tapers, and under it were gifts fur you, dear mother : anew Bible, with large print ; and a purse of money : so that you might not h ive to work so hard, dear mother ; ami warm clothes, that woqld never let you get cold. And oh ! as I came along the street to-day, and saw the windows stil- ning with their loads of beautiful toys, and gifts of all sorts, and saw the boys and girls running and shouting, and telling how they would not care for anything else when the Christmas day was once come, and they would hare their loaded tree then, mother, all the dreams I have had, since l can first remember, came back ; all you have told me of the good Christ child and of his love for children ; and 1 half felt, mother, as if 1 was left out, and not loved among the rest.” "Dear Frantz,” said the mother, “it was a sad, sad thought. Do not let it come into your heart again. Oh ! the Christ-child is always good—altogether loving, even when his love is shown in such ways that we do not clearly see it at once. Come close to me, Frantz.” Frantz saw in his mother’s face a look of such deep tenderness, that his soul grew ft:!!. He took his own little seat, and sat close beside her, and leaned his head against her knee, and the mother said, gently— “ The Christ-child has given you beauti ful gifts, my Frantz; he has given you life, and a warm, earnest heart ; he has given you a mother, who loves you so dearly ; a home to shelter you ; he gives us the light of day, and all the glorious things it reveals, and the stiller beauty of the uight ; and he gives us, more than all, s hope of heaven, and a knowledge of the path to it. Are not these great gifts, Frantz ?” Frantz lifted his face; he did not speak, but his eyes were full of tears, and his mother knew that his heart sard— '•Yes.” So she went on : ‘‘These are the gifts we most need to make us happy ; others may be good for us, but the Christ-child knows better than we do what we need." If it were good for us, he would give us all we wish for ; but then we might not makes good use of his gifts, or we might grow proud of them i or be so wrapped up in the gifts as to for get the Giver. Ah! my Frantz, let us only ask for what is best for us to have > and lie will give it; and only refuses w hat will hurt us.” Again little Frantz had bent his head on his hand, but now it was not sadness only thought, that was in his face; and he asked— " How can we know what is best—what to ask for V "If it is not given, think that it is best withheld, and be patient; if it is given, be thankful, and use the gift aright. See, Frantz!” And the mother arose, and took from her closet, a small sum of money. "This,” she continued, "is all 1 have; if any of this is spent for toys or play, I shall not have any to buy shoes for you or me. and by this I know the Christ-child deems it best for me to bo content whh what is most necessary, and to give up the plea sure of buying you beautiful golden fruit and colored tapers." "Could I not do without shoes V ’ asked Frantz. "I would go so many errands for the old cobbler, that he would mend my old ones; and Oh !if that would make it right—” "And I—should 1 do without blioes ?’» ashed the mother. Frantz looked down at the worn-out shoes site had on, and again his heart was full. "Oh ! no, mother you must have shoes. But Oh! how happy the boys must be whoso mothers have shoes and can give them Christmas-trees too!” Long did Frantz lie awake that night and ponder over all his mother had said, and at last a thought sprang into his mind. It was not wrong to ask the Christ-child for we wish, if we will only patiently bear ihe withholding. He would ask for the tree. But howl His mother had told him that the Christ-child was ready lo an swer and always near. Frantz would wri’e his heart’s wish in a letter, and di rect it “To the Christ child.” And early in the fair morning, Frantz wrote the letter, and when he met his tno. ther, his face was once more, the gay, bright face of old ; for in his pocket was the paper which seemed to him a warrant of c ming joy, and in his heart was a feel ing very like certainty that his wish would be granted; yet he did not speak of it.— It was his firtt, his glad, darling secret, and it should be a great surprise to bis mother So he only looked joyful and kissed lier> and she laid her hand on his head, and said how glad she was to see her boy so patient and cheerful once more. Fran z did many little acts of kindness and industry that day, for in his heart was a fountain of hope and love; and he wish ed to help every one. But, lively as he was,he did notjforget to drop his precious letter in the post office. When the post master camo to look over the letters, of course he was much surprised at this one of Frantz, with so strange a direction; but in a moment he saw that it was a child's hand, he opened the letter. It ran thus:— “Good Christ-child, “I am a poor little boy, but I have good mother, who has taught me ma ny things about you ; and she has said that you are kind and good, and love little chil dren, and delight to give them gifts, so that they are not hurtful ones. Now my mother is kind too, and would like to give me all I want, but she is poor, and when I asked for a Christmas-tree, she could not give me one, because she had only money enough to buy shoes for ud ; so I ask you, who are kind and rich, to give me one. I hope lam not a bad boy—l am sure my mother does not think Ism; and if it is best for me not to have the tree, 1 will try to be patient, and hear it as a good b->y should; but I don’t see what hurt a large iiibie, or warm clothes, could do my mo ther; so if 1 may not have the tree, Oh! please give her those,and I shall be happy. FRANTZ HOFFMAN. Pleased with the simple, childish inno cence of the letter, the post master put it in his pocket. When he went home, he found a rich lady there, who had come to taka tea with his wife; and at the table, when all assembled, he drew forth the let ter of little Frantz, and read it al"ud, tell ing how it had come into his hands, and Saying how the poor little fellow would wonder at never getting his tree, nor ever hearing of his letter again. “But he may hear of it again'” said the rich lady, who had listened carefully to every word. “There is so much goodness of heart in the poor boy’s love for his mo ther, that it well deserves to be rewarded. He may hear of it again.” So the lady remembered the name of the boy; indeed, she asked the man to give her the letter, which he did, and by its aid she sought and found out where Frantz lived. From some of the neighbors she heard how poor they were, and how little Frantz helped his mother all day chee~- fully, and was the best boy in all the neighborhood, and the Mrs. Hoffman had not now ever the money to buy shoes, for her landlord had raised her rent, and she had to give the littlesum laid aside to him. And the lady thought that it would not be likely to spoil so good a boy,by a beau tiful tree ;so she had one brought to her house, large and full of leaves it was, and she bought all kinds of beautiful and use ful things to hang on it, and little rose-col ored tapers, to he placed amoiig the bran ches, and on the table, under the tree, were laid two pairs of shoes one pair for the mother and one pair for little Frantz, and a pair of thick blankets, and a large shawl,and a purse of money, (for the lady knew that poor Mrs. Hoffman must have many wants of which she could not know, and she wanted her to supply them bv means of the purse,) and best of all, there was a large Bible. If Frantz's dream had suddenly turned into reality, it could not have been more beautiful. So day after day went on, and though Frantz knew’ not the fate of his letter, he doubted that all would go well. It was pleasant to see the sunshiny face with which he greeted every morning, as "one day nearer Cristmast.” And when at last Christmas moring came, bright and clear, there was a leaping, bounding heart in his bosom, and a light in his blue eyes that made his mother smile.though she scarcely knew where their next meal was to come from. The wheel kept on its whining, and Fran z sat with his eyes fixed on the blue sky, as if he almost thought his ei. pected tree would drop down from it.— Suddenly a low knock was heard at the |ow door, and a voice asked "Is little Frantz Hoffman here!" Frantz almost flew to the door. " I am Frantz!” he said. And the little maiden, who had asked for h im, told him to come with her, and his mother must come too. Soon,very soon was the little party ready and the maiden led them along gaily to a handsome liouss, whose door she pushed open, and they entered in. How lightly trod Frantz along the wide passage, as his heart whispered aloud t » him! At the end stood a door,just ajar, and as the girl pushed it open, a blaze of light streamed out, Frantz caught his mother's hand and drew her forward, ex claiming, "It is my tree—my tree!” I knew’ so well it would by ready’” And sure enough, there stood the shin ing tree, all blight with lighted tapers, and laden with sparking fruit, and on high was an image of the beautiful Christ-child holding out his hand and smiling so loving, ly, and below was written, ” FOR FRANTZ, BECAUSE HE LOVED HIS MOTHER.” Washington D. C. The llai'gaiu, “What have you theie, husband ?” said Mrs Courlland to her thrifty and careful spouse, as the latter paused in the open do »r to give some directions to a couple of porters who had just set something on the pavement in front of the house. “Just wait a moment, and I’ll tell you. Here, Henry ! John ! bring it in here,” the two porters entered with a beautiful sofa, nearly new. “Why, that is a beauty, husband. How kind you ate!” “It’s second hand you perceive ; but it's hardly soiled—no one would know ihe difference." “It's just as good as new. What did you give for it ?” “That is the best part of it. It is a splendid bargain. Ii didn’t cost a cent less than two hundred dollars. Now what do you think 1 got it for ?” •‘Sixty dollars.” “Guess again.” “Fifty l' “Guess again.” "Forty-five ?” “No. Try again.” “But what did you give for it, dear I” “Why, only twenty dollars.” “Well, now, that is a bargain.” “Ain’t it, though ? It takes me to got the things cheap.” continued the piudent Courtland, chuckling with delight. "Why, how in the world did it go off so low ?" “I managed that. It ain’t every one that understands how to do these things.” “but how did you manage it, dear I I should like to know.” “Why, you see, there were a great ma ny other things there, and among the rest some dirty carpets. Before the sale l pulled over these carpets and threw them upon the sofa; a good deal of dust fell from them, and made the sofa look fifty per cent, worse than it really was. When the sale was commenced, 'here happened to be but a few persons there, and I asked the auctioneer to sell the sofa first, as 1 wanted to go, and would bid for it if it were sold then. Few persons bid freely at the opening of a sale. "What’s bid for this splendid sofa 1” he began. "I’ll give you fifteen dollars for it," said 1 ; "it’s not worth more than that, for it’s dreadfully abused.” “Fifteen dollars ! fifteen dollars ! only fifteen dollars for this beautiful sofa !” he went on ; and a man next to me bid sev enteen dollars. I let the auctioneer cry the last bid a few moments, until 1 saw he was likely t > knock it down. “ Twenty dollars!” said 1, "and that’s as much as I’ll go for it.” "The other bidder was decieved by this as to the real value of the sofa, for it did look dreadfully dishgured by the dust and consequently the sofa was knocked off’ to tne. ” "That was admirably done, indeed,” said Mrs. Courtland with a bland smile of satisfaction at having obtained the elegant piece of furniture at so cheap a late. ‘And it’s so near a match,too, for the sofa in our front parlor.” This scene occurred at the residence of a merchant in this city, who was beginning to count his fifty thousands. Let us look on the other side of the picture. On i he day previous to the sale, a widow lady, with one daughter,a beautiful and in teresting gill about seventeen, was seated on a sofa in a neatly furnished parlor in Hudson street. The mother 4ield in her hand a small piece of paper, on which her eyes were intently fixed; but it could be readily perch ed that she saw not the char acters that were written upon it. "What is to be done, mal”at length ask ed the daughter. "Indeed, my child, I cannot tell. The bill is fifty dollars, and has been due, you know, for several days. I haven’t got five dollars and your bill for teaching the Miss Leonards cannot be presented for two weeks, and then it will amount to this sum.” "Can’t we sell something more, ma?” suggested the daughter. "We have sold all our plate and jewel ry, and now I’m sure I don’t know what we can dispose of, unless it be something that we really want.” “What do you say to selling the sofa, ma ?” "Well, I don't know, Florence. It can’t seem right to part with it. But per haps we can do without it.” “It will readily bring fifty dollars, I sup pose 1” “Certainly. It is of the best wood and workmanship, and cost one bundled and forty dollars. Your lather bought it a short time before he died, and that is not more than two years past, you know.” "1 should think it would bring nearly one hundred dollars,” said Florence, who knew nothing of auction sacrifices; ‘and that would give us enough, besides paying the quarter’s lent, to keep us comfortably until some of my bills become due.” " l hat afternoon, the sofa was sent, and on i he next afternoon Florence went to the auctioneer’s to receive the money for it. “Have you sold that sofa yet, sir? asked the lim and girl, in a low, hesitating voice. •‘What sofa, Miss?”asded the clerk, looking steadily in her face, with a bold stare. “The sofa sent by Mrs. , sir.” “When was it to have been sold ? ’ “Yeste day, sir,” “Oh, we hav’nt got the hill made out yet. Youcancall he day after to-morrow and we’ l settle it for you.” “Can’t you settle it to-day. sir? We want the money, particularly.” Without replying to the timid girl’s re quest, the clerk commenced throwing over the leaves of the account book, and in a few minutes bad taken out the bill of the sofa. “Here it is—eighteen dollars and sixty cents. See if its right, and then sign this receipt." Ain’t you mistaken, sir? It was a beau tiful sofa, and cost one hundred and forty dollars.” “That is all it brought, Miss, I assure you. Furniture sells very badly now.” Florence rolled up the bills that were given her aud returned home with a hea vy heart. ‘ It only brought eighteen dollars and sixty cents ran,” she said, throwing the notes into her mother’s lap, and bursting into tears. “Heaven only knows then,what we real ly shall do,’’ said the widow, clasping her hands together and loooking upwards. There are always two parties in the case of bargains—the gainer and the loser; and while the one is delighted with the ad vantage he has obtained, he thinks nothing of the necessities which have forced the other party to accept the highest offer.— But few buyers of bargains think or care about taking this view of the subject. The Great Plague in the Four teenth Century. —A slight sketch of the history of this awful visitation, compiled fiom a source upon which we may pretty confidently rely, will show, by compaii son.what a trifling matter is magnified in to a pestilence at the present day. Like the cholera, this fearful pestilence first ap peared in the Fast. It broke out in India, about the year 1348, and thence extend ed its ravages to the western parts of Asia, into Egypt, Abyssinia, and the northern portions of Africa. It proceeded over Asia Minor, Greece, and the Archipelago, almost depopulating those regions in its march. According to numerous writers, where it was most favorable it spared one person out of three, or one out of five ; but where it raged moit violently, scarce ly one out of fifteen or twenty escaped de struction. Some countries, partly by the plague, and partly by earthquakes, which were awfully frequent at that time, were left quite desolate. It appears to have remained five or six months in one place, and then to have gone in search of fresh victims. Before invading Christendom,it swept off 23,800,000 persons throughout the East, in the course of a single year.— From Greece the plague passed into Ita ly. The Venilians, having lost 100,000 souls, almost entirely deserted their city. At Florence 60,000 persons perished in one year. France next felt its fury. At Avignon the mortality was terrible. When it first broke out there, no fewer than six ty-six Carmelite friars died before anybo dy knew how, and it was imagined that they had murdered one another. Os the members of the English college, at Avig non, not one was left alive ; and of the whole population, not one in five. In one day 1212 persons perished, and in anoth er 400. Proceeding northward, the pes tilence reached Paris, where it swept off 50 000 people. About the same time it spread into Germany, where 12,400,000 persons became its victims. At Lubeck, alone, according to the concurring ac counts of several writers, 90.000 persons died in one year, and of these 1800 are reported to have perished in the space of four hours. About the beginning of Au gust, 1348, the scourge appeared in Eng land, spreading every where such destruc tion, that out of the whole population hardly one person in ten survived. In the churchyard of Yarmouth, 7052 people were buried in one year; and in the city of Norwich 57,374 died within 6 months. No general statement of the total a mount of mortality in London is given ; but there are details enough to show that it was terrible beyond description. Thu pestilence raged violently in Wales and Scotland; thence, passing into Ireland, it made great havoc among the English res idents, but, strange to say, the native Irish were but little affected. In 1349, the pestilence entirely ceased in England ; but the destroying angel continued his march through other regions for several years longer—marks of his presence remaining on record down to the year 1362. One of the most deplorable effects re sulting from this visitation, fell upon the heads of that unfortunate race—the Jews. A belief was prevalent in several coun tries, that they bad caused the pestilence bj poisoning the wells and fountains ; and in many places they were massacred in thousands by the enraged populace.— Twelve thousand of them were murdered in the single city of Menlz ; and in other parts of Germany they were literally ex terminated. No similar visitation has since afflicted the world ; nor does its earlier history afford any instance of a calamity, of the same nature, equally wide spread or de stnsctive. Indeed, in almost every other memorable instance of die plague, it has been limited to a particular district, or even to a particular city Letter from Smith O'Brien—A copy of the following leter has beeen received at the Colonial Office from Mr. Smith O'Brien: “Darlington Probation Station, Maria Island. Van Dikm an's Land, Feb. 28, 1850. “ My Dear Porter : I would have written to you sooner isl had had anything agreeable to communicate, hut I have been unwilling to grieve you that your worst anticipations w ith respect to the sort of treatment which I might possibly experience in this colony have been re alized. During a period of about two months I suffered as much as the inhumanity of the Gov ernor of this colony, Sir William Denison, aid ed hy the Controller-General, Dr. Hampton, could inflict. My health at length began to give way so rapidly nnder the solitary confine ment to which during this period, I was consign ed, that the doctor of the station became serious ly alarmed, and liis representations produced such a relaxation of the restriction of the regu lations under w hich I was placed as has had the effect of restoring nty strength. I shall abstain from distressing you with a detailed narrative of my experience of the magnanimity of British functionaries as illustrated by my trealmenr in thisisland. I shall rather impress you with a persuasion—happily well founded that 1 bear, with wonderful cheerfulness, all the privations to which I am subject. Every other source of suffering appear to be so insignificant compared with that of separation from my family that I reconcile myself to the minor vexationsincident al to my position as to matters of comparative in difference Yet, though I could terminate the pains of this separation by allowing Mrs.O'Brien ro come to Van Dieman’s Land, 1 feel more strongly than ever that it would be the greatest injustice to my children to bring them to a coun try the present condition of which I will not trust myself to describe. 1, therefore, can see no definite termination to the calamities of my lot except that which you and other friends took so much pains to avert, the deliverance which will be effected by death ; and I confess that I deliberately think that my death would be more advantageous to my children than that they should follow me to this colony. I am afraid that some of my fellow exiles, though enjoying the‘comparative liberty' which a ticket of leave confers,find their lot little more envisble than mine, snd the more I reflect upon the circumstance of their position the more do I rejoice that I have kept myself unfettered by any engagement, even though my resolution in this regard very nearly cost me my life. Considered aa a prison, Maria Island is as little objections ble as any spot that could bo chosen. The scenery is very picturesque, and the local offi cers have been ea kind aa they could venture to be under the inhuman regulations laid down for their guidance by the Controller General lam therefore rather sorry to learn that this station will soon ha broken up. Upon the abnn dnnment of this station I shall probably be re moved to Port Arthur—n change which will, I fear, be productive of neither benefit nor sit s faetion to me. IVM 8. O’BRIEN ” MACON, G A SATURDAY MORNING, I>ECKMBER~i7' Ala. Hughes’ Communication.— \V B Wefß pleased to notice, in the lust Telegraph, a com. m imitation from Mr. Willis H. Hughes i 0 reply lo the gross insinuations and malicious misrepresentations ofthe individual who wrote an article in the Journal & Messenger of the 4th inst., over the signature of “Justice Our limits will not permit us to publish this defence of Mr. Hughes, and therefore we refer to the Telegraph for it. We can only say, j n giving our opiuion of its merits, that the argu. me nt of Mr. Hughes is unanswerable, and casts in the teeth ofthe writer of the article alluded to, facts which no ntan of tenacious feeling would like to receive. De Bow's Revi ew.— The December number of this excellent work has been received, which fully sustains its previous character. A biogra phical department, which will include a scries of men prominent in the South in the various branches of enterprise, wifi hereafter find a place in the Review—that of Mr. James occupies the present number. A literary department has also been added to the work. Complete bound sete may be had, and we advise all who wish to sustain this excellent periodical, to subscribe without delay, as the statistical information if contains is richly worth the subscription price/ Published monthly at New Orleans, by J. D 8/ De Bow, at $5 per annum, in advance. The December number contains the following, viz • Bryant's Poems; Mississippi Valley; Pacific Railroad ; Chancellor Harper's Memoir oh Slavery ; Manufacture of Sugar ; Progress of American Cities; Agricultural Department' Miscellaneous Department ; Gallery of Industry and Enterprise; Literary Department; Editorial Department. The State Convention. —This body was organized at Milledgeville on Tuesday last, by the appointment of Charles Spalding ns Pres ident, W. B. Wofeord and A. J. Miller Vice Presidents, and R. 8. Lanier Secretary The following Committee was appointed to present Resolutions for the consideration ol the Convention, viz : Middle District. —Jenkins, Law-ton, Flournoy. Eastern —Bartow, Couper, Smith Southern. —Blackshear, Geo. Wilcox, Gatlin. South-Western —Crawford, Taylor, Irvine. Chattahooehie. —McDnugald, Clarke, Bevins. Coweta. — E. G. Hill, Murphy, Slaughter. Chervhte. —Tumlin, Lawhou, Chastain of Gil mer. Western —Hull, Hill, Knox. Northern. —Gilmer, Baxter, Long. Ocamvlgee. — Kennon, Sanford, Meriwether. Flint. —King, Williamson, Collins. The above Committee reported the following Resolutions accompanied by a long Preamble, which were finally adopted on Saturday evening at 7 o'clock, by yeas 237, nays 19—when the Convention adjourned, sine die. To the end, therefore, that the position of this State may be clearly apprehended by her con federates of the South and ofthe North, and that she may he blameless of all future con.-e<)iiences : Be it Resolved by the People of ■ eorgia in Convention assembled, Fiist, That we ho and the American Union, secondary in impoitanre only to lie rights and principles it was designed lo perpetuate Ttiat past associations, present frui tion, and future prospects, will hind us In it 10 long as it continues to he the safeguard of these rights and principles. Secondly, That if the thirteen original parlies to the contract, bordering the Atlantic in a nur. row belt, while their separate interests were in embryo, their peculiar tendencies sesreely tie veloped, their revolutionary trials and triumphs still green in memory, found Union impo-sible without Compromise, the thirty one of ilns day may well yield somewhat, in the conflict of opinion and policy, to preserve that Union which lias extended thesway of republican government over a vast wilderness, to another ocean, and propnrtionably ad\anced their civilization and national greatness. Thirdly. That in this spirit, the State of Georgia has maturely considered the action of Congress embracing a series of menaces for the admission of California into the Union, the or ganization of territorial Governments fur I'talv and New Mexico, lhe establishment ofa bounda ry between the latter and the State of Texas, th' suppression of the slave trade hi the District of Columbia, and ’h'- extradition offugitivo slam, and (conmc'ed with them) the rejection of pro positions to exclude slavery from the Mexican territories ad to abolish it in the District ol Colombia; and whilst she does not wl oily ap prove, will abide by it as a permanent adjustment of this sectional controversy. Fourthly. That the State of Georgia, in the judgment of this Convention, will and ought to resist, even (as a last resort,) to a disruption 1,1 every tio which binds her to the Union, any action of Congress upon the subject ol'slavrry m the District of Columbia, or in any places subject to the jurisdiction of Congress, incompau blc with tho safety, domestic tranquility, d |e rights and the honor of the slaveliolding Slates— or any act suppressing the slave trade between the slavcholdnig States—or any refusal to admit as a Slate any Territory hereafter applying, because of the existence of slavery therein— or any act prohibiting the introduction of slaves into the Territories of Utah and New Mexice— or any act repealing or materially modifyingm* laws now in force for the recovery of Fugitiv® slnvps. Fifthly, that it is the deliberate opinionnftl ,| i Convention, that upon the faithful execution 0 the Fugitive Slave Bill by the proper autherine* depends the preservation of our much Union. Latest from Europe. —The America arrived with Liverpool dates to the3oth Brown it Shipley’s Circular reports a depu' ~f Cotton market throughout the week.atade''^I’* 1 ’* of | a Id. Fair Uplands, 7| ; Fair .MobilWiI'’ 1 '’ Fair Orleans, 7jd. Middling 7| a ~|d. gales of the week amount to 20,000 bales- Advices from Havre to the 28th, rep” rl Cotton market dull, but prices unchanged Provisions are dull. Coffee is heavy if pool, and in London previous prices were * mintained. Sugarisin limited demand * ded'no- , e , to n A telegraphic despatch to the Lh« Courier, dated New York, Dec. 13, '*>’ ' ||(lt vices received from Boston this morning' that intelligence from Europe by the one day later than before published, ° nn " |fft) that Continental Affairs wore a w . ar ''*i® It snd open hostilities appeared inev l was asserted that the Austrian „ c | i# demanded the evacuation of He**® 24 hours