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VOL. I. Sljf (Sforgifi Ciliara , published, every Saturday morning, ih Macon, Ga. on the follow- CONDITIONS : If paid strictly in advance - - SO 50 per annum If not so paid - - *• -3 00 ““ hegal Advertisements will be madv to conform to til* following pro- Ssions of the Statute: — Sales of Land and Neiroes, by Executors, Administrators and Cuard ans. are required by fiw to be advertised in a public gazette, sixty days previous to the day of sale. These sales must be held on the firs. Tuesday in the month, between he hours of ten ih the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court House In the county in which the property is situated. Xlie sales of Personal Property must be advertised in like manner for h days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary foi •eave to sell Land and Negroes, must be published weekly for four inonths. Citations or Letters of Administration must l>e published thirty days —for Dismission from Administration, monthly■ sir months —for Dis mission from GuatdiatlShip. forty days. Rules fat foreclosure of mortgage, must be publish***! monthly, for four months —for establishing lost papers, for the full space of three ‘months —for compelling titlesfroih E.-cecutors ot Administrators where a bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of three months. professional and Business Card*', inserted, according to tiie follow- j scale: For 4 lines hi less per annum - - s"> CO in advance’ G lines “ “ * ~ 0,1 “ “ UJ O i. u u . . g]o (to “ “ fgrTran.sient Advertisements Will be charged sl, per square of 19 lines or less, for the first and 50 Cts. for each subsequent nsertion. —’ On these rates there will be a deduction of 20 percent, on settlement when advertisements are continued 3 months, without alteration. I'ff” All Letters except those containing remittances must lie post\ part* ot free. Postmasters and others v. ho will act as Agents for the “Citizen* may retain 20 percent, for their trouble, on all cash subscriptions for- : warded. OFFICE on Mulberry Street, East of tire F'oyd House and near the 1 Market. Srofpssinnal Cark. RELLAM & BELL, Attorneys at Law and General Land AgeiUS, Atlanta, ,Ca„ Will practice in DeKalh and adjoining counties*, and in the Supreme Court at Decatur.—Will also visit any part of ths country for the settlement of claims, <f-c. without suit. U* Bounty L\si> Claims prosf.cutf.d with despatch. j Office on White Hall St., over Dr. Denny's Drug Store. ; A. R. KKI.LAM. M. A. BELL. S. & R, P. HALL, Attorneys at Loir , MacoiL Georgia. ])PAfT[CE in Bibb, Crawford. Houston, Epson. Monroe, Macon, Dooly, Twiggs,Jones ahd Tike counties*, and in the Supreme ‘ Cbiift at Macon, Decatur.Talbotton and Americus. tsTi •rrn k over Scott, Cariiart k Co.’s Store. April 4, 1850. 2—ly , l Vnt. K. dcGHAFFENREID, Attorney & Counsellor at Law. ’ macon; ga. 1 I mulberrysteft, nearly orrosiTE Washington ; lIALL. March 21,1550. I—lv j JOHN M. MI HEX. 1 ATTORNEY AT LAW, BAYAN XAI I, (: EOIIGIA . Jane 28th. 1850. 14 —ly SAVXQ REIP, P. AND NOTARY PUBLIC,—MACON, CEO. ! OF DEEDS, &c., for the States of j A Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, Tennessee, j Kentucky, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Flori da .Missouri, New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Penn- 1 syltsnia, Ohio, Indiana. Illinois, Arkansas, Maine, &lc. Depositions taken. Accounts probated, Deeds and Mort gages drawn, and all documents and instrumentsyf writing prepared and authenticated for use ahd record, in any of the above States. Residence oh Walhttt. street, near the African chhffch. IT Public < Iffice adjoining JJr. M. 8. Thomson's Botan ic Htore—opposite Floyd House. Macdn, June 28, 1850 14—ly REMEMBER! Wfl.fcN ih your extremity that Dr. 31. S. TIFOJISON is still in Iflacon, Georgia, and when written to, sends Medicine by mail to any part of the country. Dnntgive up all hope without consulting him. June 7,1850- 11—ts BOUNTY LANDS, TO OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS Who served in the mar of 1812 with Great Britain , the Indian tears of 1790, and IS3G, and the tear with Mex ico of 1847-8. THE UNDF.RSIfiNED has received from the proper De partments, the necessary papers to establish all or any *>f the above claims, under the recent acts of Congress. He *ili also make out claims under the Pension Act, as well as *ll others ngain.-u. the United States for Lost Horses, Hag gle, etc. Information furnished gratis. Charges moderate. Claims of Widows, Heirs, &c., particular!v attended to. octll 6t JOSEPH A. WHITE. P. r T . ARRINGTON, Attorney at Law and Notary Public, ’ Oglethorpe, IWacoii Cos., 14 (IF.OfttH A. 38—ts Cljc Ctmicr, To a Little Girl at her Music Lesson. BY G. G. FOSTER, “ I can't keep time !” ah silly elf! That lesson thou wilt learn In sadness and despair, ere Time Keeps thee within his urn. “ I can't keep time!” Nor can the gay And laughing sons of earth. Who light their passage to the tomb With song and joyous mirth. The great—the wise—the proud—could they “ Keep time,” right glad were they; But fleeting years have taught how swift Time flees away, away! And thou, thy little fingers plying, Can'st not “ keep time,” forsooth ! Nay, little one, he runneth fast, As fleeth by thy youth. Keep time, thou can'st not—yet observe This easier lesson well; Mark time thou may’st, and if thou dost, A pleasant tale ’twill tell. For thou hast in thy young heart stored A wilderness of dreams Which, if thou mark'st him, Time will shower Hound thee in golden beams. Each note thou ponderest o’er but rings The alarum of some hope Which lietli hidden unto thee In Time's kaleidescope. Then mark time well, and from thy brow The shade of sadness fling, And each unskillful note of thine In time with joy shall ring. For the Georgia Citizcrt. Why Drink yc the Rosy Wine. In imitation of the Bird Song , sung by Jenny Lind. COMPOSED BV SOLON ROBINSON. Toper ! why drink ye the rosy wine? Say why ! say why ? Doth it inspire the muses nine ? Say why ! say why ? It wakes no muse for me or mine, Inspires no pen or points no line— I know not why I’m drinking! Toper ! why is thy heart so sad ? Say why ! say why ? Spirit still flowing fills thy head, Still dry ! still dry! My head is full and yet is light, My heart all sadness day or night, While wine I’m freely drinking. Toper I why drink ye all the day ? Oh tell ? Oh tell ? Doth wife or mother never pray ? Oh tell! Oh tell? Oh yes! in both their bosoms swell, A prayer to save ! —how can I tell ? I know not why I’m drinking! The annexed beautiful and touching lines, which we find in a Kentucky paper, are said to be from the pen of a Lady, and were written on the occasion of an illumination for one of our Mexican victories : vrtorV. Victory! Victory! Oh! if ye who shout The glorious paean knew how heavily It falleth on my soul—the funeral knell Os love, and hope, and joy. Oh ! unto me The shout of triumph is the voice of death, The shuddering voice of that most fearful death Which cometli to the weary mangled wretch Upon the trampled and ensanguined field, Where men have torn each otlic-T limb from limb. Like savage beasts of prey —where, pierced with wounds, j Or maimed, and mangled by the murderous shot, They lie who lately were so full of life, Os patriotism, and high heroic pride And brilliant dreams of glorious A ictorv, That horrid p.Hver, whose favor must be won By hecatombs of victims, sacrificed tn one promiscuous slaughter. It is strange l. That Christian men will worship with such rites ©ij tci f ft/fr an ami pral th i t! \ \ 1 Y t Their hymns of triumph, while their dearest friends, Their sons and brothers, lie amongst the dead \Vho perished as her victim's. Oh what vain And idle mockeries are her laurel crowxlS, Her Sceptres, and her marble monuments, To woman's desolate and bleeding heart! * ‘ll! hot for all the wealth of this broad earth Would One fond wife resign her plighted love ! Aye ! she would spurn as infamous the power That proffered her the empire of a world For that one precious life! < Mi fatal dream Os military glory ! With its lure Ofpatrriot virtue, how it doth beguile The burning heart of man from llis own home, With all its holy and dependent loves, To go a weapon in the hand of power Ahd desolate the far off quiet homes Os getltle women and their helpless babes. Oh woman ! It is said thou art weak And tender hearted—yet ’tis ever tlline To drain the dregs of every bitter CUp That is poured out for man, and to endure Tiie weight of all his sorrow, and to bear The cruel eonseqenCes of his faults, , llis errors, find his crimes. Man never feels A pang that is not felt with interest By some fond woman’s heart. While he endures The soldier’s hardshp. she in her ltrtie home Is agonizing for him. If he falls. Be it in glory's arms, or in the ranks Os the unhonored, undistinguished mass, Her heart is broken. Glory's voice to her Is bitter mockery, and she feels no joy In Victories which have left her naught on earth But wo, and want, and toil. Oh Victory ! Bought ever with man’s blood, and woman's tears, And childhood’s orphanage. I have no heart To joy in thy grim smiles, or to rejoice Above thy slaughtered victims. Jtikellnnif. | The Pine-Tree Shilling. BY HAWTHORN. Capt. John Hull was the mint-master of Massa chusetts, and coined all the money that mils made. His was anew line of business ; for, in the earlier j davs of the colony, the current coin was the gold ( and silver money of England, Portugal and Spain. | These coins being scarce, tiie people were often fore- ! ed to barter their commodities instead of selling j them. j For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he perhaps exchanged a bear skin for it. If he wished a barrel of molasses, he might purchase it for a pile of pine boards. Musket bullets were used instead of farthings. The Indians had a sort of money called wampum which was made of clam shells; and this strange sort of specie was likewise taken in pax - ■ ment of debts by English settlers. Bank bills bad never been heard of There was not money enough j of any kind, in many parts of the country, to pa) their ministers; so that they took quintals of nsh, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, instead ot siher and gold. , . As the people grew more numerous, and their trade with one another increased, the want of cur rent money was still more sensibly felt, lo supply the demand, the General Court passed a law for es tablishing a coinage of shillings, sixpences and three pences. Capt. J. Hull was appointed to manufac ture this money, and was to have about one shilling out of every twenty, to pay him for his trouble in making them. Hereupon, all the old silver in the colony was banded over to Capt. J. Hull. The battered silver “Jnbcpcnbcut in all ilpugs —Neutral in Nolljing.” MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, JANUARY 11, ISM. cans and tankards, I suppose, and silver bilts of swords that had figured at court, and all such curi ous old articles were doubtless thrown into the melt ing pot together. By far the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from the mines of South America, which the English buccaniers, (who were little better than pirates,) had taken from the Span* iards and brought to Massachusetts. All this old and new silver being melted do\vi| and coined, the result was an immense amount of splendid shillings, sixpences, and threepences. Eacli bad the date of 1052 on the side, and the figure of a pine-tree on the other. And for every twenty shil lings that lie coined, you will remember Capt. J. 11. 1 was entitled to put one shilling in his own pocket. The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint master would have the best of the bargain. They offered him a large sum of money if he would give I up that twentieth shilling, which he was continually , dropping into his pocket. But Capt. Hull declared that he was perfectly satisfied with the shilling.— And well he might be, for so diligently did he labor, that in a few years his pockets, his money bag, and his strong box, were overflowing with pine-tree shil lings. This was probably the case when he came in to possession of his grandfather’s chair; and as he had worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper that he should have a comfortable chair to rest himself on. When the mint-master had grown very rich, a young man, Samuel Seawall by name, came court ing his only daughter, llis daughter’s name 1 do not know; but we will call her Betsy. Betsy was a fine, hearty damsel, bj no means as slender as some young ladies of our own days, t>n the contrary, having always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, dough nuts, Indian puddings, and other Puritan dainties, she was as round and plump as a pudding. With this round, rosy Miss Betsy, did Samuel Seawell fall in love. As he was a young man of good char acter, industrious in his business, and a member of tiie church, the mint-master very readily gave his Consent. “ Yes, you may take her,’’ said he, in his rough way, “and you will find her a heavy burderi e nough.” On the wedding day we may suppose that hon est John Hull dressed himself in a plain coat, all the buttons of which w ere made of pine-tree shillings, j The buttons of bis waistcoat were sixpences; and the knees of his small clothes w r ere buttoned with silver threepences. Thus attired, lie sat with great dignity in his grandfather’s chair; and being a port ly old gentleman, lie completely filled it from elbow to elbow. On the opposite side of the room, be tween the bridesmaids, sat Miss Betsy. She was blushing with all her might, and looked like a full blown peonc, a great red apple, or any other round and scarlet object. i There, too. was the bridegroom, <1 i-orCfl in fitw.*. jvirpte coal and gold lave waistcoat, ‘with rS lirucii’j otwer finery ns the Puritan laws and customs would allow him to put on. His hair was cropt close to his head, because Governor Endicott had forbidden anM man to wear it below the ears. But lie was a , very personable young man ; and so thought the bridesmaids and Miss Betsy herself. The mint-master was also pleased with his new son-in-law—especially as he had said nothing of her portion. So w hen the marriage ceremony was over, (’apt. Hull w hispered a word to tw T o of his men ser vants, who immediately went out, and soon return ed lugging in a large pair of scales. They were such a pair as wholesale merchants used for weigh ing ; a bulky commodity was now to be weighed in them. “Daughter Betsy,” said the mint-master, “go in to one side of the scales.” Miss Betsy —or Mrs. Seawell as we must now call her—did fts she was bid, like a dutiful child with out any question of a why or wherefore. But what her father could mean, unless to make her husband pay for her by the pound, (in w hich case she would have been a dear bargain,) she had not the least idea. “And now,” said honest John Hull to his servants, “ bring that box hither.” The box to which the mint-master pointed was a huge, square, iron-bound oaken chest; it was big enough, my children, for all four of you to play hide and-seek in. The servants tugged With all their might and main, but could not even lift this enormous recepta cle, and were finally obliged to drag it across the floor. Capt. Hull then took a key out of his girdle, un locked the chest, and lifted the ponderous lid. Be hold ; it was full to the brim of bright pine-tree shillings, fresh from the mint; and Samuel (Seawell began to think that his father-in-law had got, pos session of all the money in the Massachusetts Treas ury. I Then the servants, at Capt. Hull’s command, heaped double hftndsfnll of shillings, into one side of the scales, While Betsy remained in the other.— •Jingle, jingle went the shillings, ns handbill after handfull was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as she was, they weighed the young lady from the floor. “ There, son Seawell,” cried the honest mint-mas- j ter, resuming his seat in his grandfather’s chair, “ take these shillings for my daughter’s portion—j use her kindly, and thank Heaven for her, for it is not every wife that’s worth her weight in silver 1” I The children laughed heartily at this legend, and would hardly be convinced hut grandfather bad made it out of his own bead. lie assured them faith fully, however, that lie had found it in the pages of a grave historian, and merely had tried to tell it in a somewhat funnier style. “ Well, grandfather,” remarked Clara, “if wed ding portions now-a-days were paid as Miss Betsy’s was, young ladies would not pride themselves upon an airy figure, as many of them do.” Out of Heart. BY ELLEN ASHTON. “Why so sad, Ernest?” said the young wife to her husband, affectionately twining her arms a- j I round his neck and kissing him. He looked up with a sad smile, and replied: “I am almost out of heart, Mary. I think of all pursuits a physician’s profession is the worst. Here , I have been week after week and month after month —and I may soon say year after year—waiting for practice, yet without success. A lawyer may volun teer in a celebrated case, and so make himself known —but a physician must sit patiently in his office, and if unknown, see men without half his acquire ments rolling in wealth while he, perhaps, is starv ing. And it will soon come to that,” he added bit terly ; “if I do not get employment.” An unbidden tear stole into the wife’s eye, but she strove to smile, and said: “Do not despond, Ernest; I know you have been unfortunate so far, but you have talents and knowl- i edge to make your way as soon as you get a start. And depend upon it,” she added with a cheerful ■ look, “that will come when you least expect it.’ 5 “So you have told me often; but the lucky hour : lias never come,” said her husband despondingly.— “And now every cent of my little fortune lias been expended and oilr credit will soon be gone when it is found we do not pay. What then is to becoille of us?” Ernest was in a mood which the most sanguine sometipTfe experience, when disappointment after j diqippTnhtment has crushed the spirit, and the voice j oDhope is no longer hushed within, llis wife ! would have given way to tears, if she had been j alone ; but she felt the necessity of sustaining him, and answered him cheerfully : “ And what if every cent is gone ? Have no fear that we shall starve. God sent ravens to feed Elijah, and he will yet interpose for our aid. Trust in him Ernest.” The husband felt rebuked, as slie tints spoke and answered despondingly: “But really, Mary, this want of success would try ! the stoutest spirit. The mechanic, the day laborer, the humblest farmer, is sure of his raiment; but I, after having spent years in study, have wasted years besides waiting for practice; and now when all my fortune is gone, if I resort to other means of liveli hood, 1 lose all that I have spent, both time and mon ey, and must forever abandon the idea of ptirsuing my profession. It is too hard !” and he arose and walked the room with rapid c trides. llis wife sighed and remained silent. But after a moment or two she arose, went tip to j him, and fondly encircling him with her arms, said: i “Dear Ernest, you must not worry yourself so. You think it painful for me to bear poverty, I know, or you would not take it so hard; but a woman nev er regards such tilings when she loves. A crust of bread, a log cabin, would be preferable to me if I shared them with you, than a palace with any other. But it will not come to this. Something within as sures me you will not be rich and great. Have pa tience only a little while longer. There —there is a knock at the door now —it may be for you.” As if her words had been prophetic, the little girl, their only servant, appeared at this crisis, and said the doctor was wanted |in a great hurry. With an exulting smile his wife ran for his hat, and then sat down, with a beating heart to wait his return. It was almost the first summons the young phy sician had received though he had resided in the vil lage more than a year. The place, too, was large and populous, but there resided medical men of large practice, and all these combined to put down tbeir young rival. More than once heretofore Ernest would have abandoned the field in despair; but his young wife cheered and encouraged him, though somikimesflicr a heart felt ready to give up. -A eer h that greatest of bless inragood wffety™ie sympathized with filer hus bai'jE economized to the utmost and by her sanguine j woiws chased despondency from fier heart. / Itour after hour she sat there awaiting fier fins- \ Hand, yet still lie came not. A*- last darkness sat in [ and she began to feel uncf. u j , . , ' : ''She was about rising i to go the door, when she heard her husband’s foot ; on the step, and hurrying out she met him in the hall. “ God bless you, Mary, for an angel as you are,” were his first words. “If it had not been for you, I should have given up long ago, and now my fortune is made.” Breathless with an anxiety to hear all, yet not un mindful of liis probably wearied condition, Mary hur ried her husband into the sitting room where the | tea things were laid, and began to pour out the re freshing beverage with a trembling hand, while Er nest told the history of his day’s absence. “ I found,” lie said, “ 1 was sent for to old Govern- i or Houston’s—the richest man, you know, in the country —and when 1 got there, I learned, to my | surprise, that the Governor had been thrown from 1 his carriage and was dying. All the physicians of the town had been sent for one after another, but none could aid him. In despair, bis wife, without orders, had sent for me. I saw his only chance for life depended on anew and difficult operation, which none of the older physicians had ever seen per formed. Fortunately, 1 had assisted at one when a student. I stated what I thought could be done.— The old Governor is a man of iron nerves and quick resolution ; so when he heard others sny they could do nothing for him, he determined to commit him self to my hands. I succeeded beyond my hopes; even the other physicians were forced to acknowl edge my skill; and there is nothing but care requir ed to make any patient as well as ever. On parting ing lie put tliis roll of bills in my hands.” Mary was in tears long before her husband had finished his narration ; but her heart went up in thankfulness to God for having thus interposed just at the crisis when he seemed gone. From that day Ernest Linwood was a made man. Tiie fame of his skillful operation was in every body’s month; and, by the aid of his patient who now be came liis patron, he stepped at once into practice a fnong the best families of the place. Wealth as well as reputation flowed in upon him ; but he al ways attributed liis success to liis wife, whose affec tions, he said, had cheered and sustained him, when out of heart. “ There is nothing,” he would say, “like a faith ful wife; under God our weal or woe for this life de pends on her. If she is desponding, your own san guine spirit catches the infection ; but if she is full of , hope and energy, her smiles will cheer you in the 1 darkest hours, and enable you to achieve what you first thought impossibilities. Our success in this world, as well as otir happiness, depends chiefly on 1 our wives. Let a man marry one, therefore, ‘ equal to either fortune,’ who can adorn his riches or bright- 1 on his poverty; and who under all circumstances, will be truly his helpmate.” Male Sex aroused to a sense of their duty. Tinicfm in Arms. — A tremendous mass con vention of the male sex generally, and the mascu j lines of Tinicum particularly, was held in that an cient town, at Liberty Hall, a few days ago. From j the Philadelphia Bulletin’s report, which is very lull i and comprehensive, we learn that the most fiery speeches wefe made,- and that the utmost excite ment existed. Ladies were excluded from the grave j deliberations. The President of the grand rally lor ! the rights of man appointed committees to consider and report upon the following subjects : _ 1. The position of man in the kitchen and laun dry. 2. The position of man in the nursery. 3. The right of man to his own political opinions. 4. Curtain lectures, and their mode of audience. 5. The right to occupy seats in railroad, cars and omnibuses, against the subsequent claims of wo man:. C. The right to ask a friend td dinner without previous consultation. 7. The exclusion of Woman from the rights of suf frage and election. g. The right to smoke in one’s own house, 9. The right of speaking one’s own opinion be fore strangers. 10. The preservation dt the word “obey,” in tiie marriage service. The Btilletin learns with Jhdignation—very great indignation—that as Mr. Martyr (a delegate) was I addressing the body, the proceedings of the c'utoven | tion were abruptly closed b v an attack upon tiie doors led by several hundred women, led on by Mrs. Mar tyr, bearing a banner inscribed “Equal Rights to Woman! Down with the tyrant, Man!” This overwhelming force could not be raised. The win dows of the ball flew open, and, in a few minutes, the convention was left without a quorum. Your Neighbor’s Hens.—Mr. kept bis hens shut up. lie was not going to have liis garden de stroyed by his own or his neighbor s liens. One morning lie saw a couple digging in liis early pea bed, and out lie went with murder in his heart, but the liens flew over into neighbor B.’s garden ; where upon A. called over to him very angrily that he would shoot the next hen lie saw on bis side of the fence, if lie did not shut them up, which B. declared lie would not do, “and if A, was fool enough to shoot them, lie might do it, for all that he cared.”— A. was as good rs his word, and day after day B. was saluted with the snteil of gunpowder, and a message thrown over the fence with every fat pul let, “There’s another chicken for your dinner,” un til at length, not finding the usual supply, 13. called over one morning to neighbor A. to know the rea son. This awakened inqtiirv, wheri it was discover ed that A. had been shouting his o\in hens as they occasionally escaped through a hole in the coop, and in liis anger at his neighbor for the supposed tres pass, had furnished him with sundry good dinners.-- No doubt he was a little mad at first, and thought any cunning trick after that better than shooting his neighbor’s bens. On the heels of follv treadeth shame'. Political. Hoii. Win. €. Rives and the Union. “The letter that will be found Ixl nv, from Mr. Rives, the talented and accomplished Representative of our Country at the Court of Paris, will, we have no doubt, be read with deep and abiding interest. As will tie seen, it was written in return for a copy of the Register containing an article which we published a few weeks since, signed ‘Constitution. 1 inr I ’>iation<if (><• Compromise measures, and particularly of frfe Fugitive Act, which is now the prominent subject'or dispussion throughout our country. A gentlemen of this city who, while in Europe, had the pleasure to form a friend ly aeqaintanee with M t. Rives, forwarded to him the number of the paper containing that article, thinking that the sub ject might interest him, though not with the intention of bringing Mr. Rives’ sentiments on fh't? exciting topics of tbe day before the American public. But this letter treats of the entire subject with such statesmanlike ability, and per fect fairness, and withal is so valuable for its historical facts and deductions, that the gentleman <6 whom it was ad dressed has felt that he eeuld not do a better service to the country, than to present it entire to the public; and though it was received in the course of private correspondence, yet he has taken the responsibility, in the present crisis, to spread it before his fellow-citizens. We need hardly add, that Mr. Rives has long stood prominent among the gifted sons of Vir ginia, and it is peculiarly gratifying to find that so many of the distinguished statesmen of our country, of both political parties, in these trying times, unite in the determination that ‘TIIE UNION SHALL BE PRESERVED !’—Mr. Rives formerly represented our country ns Minister to France, in the administration of Gen; Jackson, and was re-nominated to the same post by the late President Taylor. Paris, 25th Nov., 1850. My lit:dr Sir : —Awopf,- I pray you, my cordial thanks for your kindness in sending r tie the New Heaven Register containing the calm and sober appeal addressed, in the yet heeded name, I trust, of the Constitution , to your fellow citizens on the subject of the unhappy excitements which has been kindled in your seetkm of the Union against one of the measures of the last session of Congress. I have read it with sentiments of the liveliest satisfaction, both personal and patriotic. Whert I see gentlemen in quiet life, arousing themselves in different Sections of the country i to the dangers of the Republic, and invoking the acient spirit of brotherhood and the sacred obligations of plighted faith in the cause of the Union, I can never despair of its safety. Nothing can be truer or justcr than what is said ds to the fundmental character of the engagement mutrtilly and so lemnly contracted by the States, in the imperative language of the Constitution, for the delivery of fugitives from ser vice. Without it, the Union could never have existed j and the obligation was deliberately assumed by a'l the parties, without a single dessentifig voice in the convention Which frorm>d the Constitution- Whence then the clamm n<-*v rais ed against its practical fulfilment ? The communication which you have sent tome shows that the principle,Notwith standing the rash declaration to the contrary made on the floor of the Senate of the United State* was at no time a novelty in American legislation, and that its first formal es tablishment was made by the Northern States themselves in that primitive and model confederacy entered into with each other in the year 1G43, by the plantations of Massachusetts, Play mouth, Connecticut, and New Haven, deeply imbued as they were with the spirit of Christianity and religions zeal. Indeed, it was the common law of that period of our early history, resting upon the general principles of comity and good neighborhood, without the necessity of invoking the obligations of any written compact. This is very strikingly shown by an ancient and authentic Document which fell un der my observation in a cursory glance at the valuable Man- ; useript Collections of the Historical Society of Massachusetts near two years ago, and a copy of which was kindly furnish ed me by a worthy and distinguished member of that Socie ty as a matter of general historical interest, without the slight est idea at the time, either on his part or mine, that it was likely to acquire any practical value from the events of the flay- As it comes, however, singularly enough in illustration and support of the historical deduction of the principle, and j as it is in itself a curious and instructive relic, I give it you. ; It is a letter of Sir William Berkely, Governor of Virginia, dated the 12th of June 1644, to be found in the Ist volume of the Hutchinson papers in possession of the Massachusetts Historical Society, in the following words : — “Tothe Right Worshipful the Governor of New England these present — Worthy Sir :—Having received intelligence and complaint from Mr. John Chew, merchant, that certain of his servants being run away about May 1643, and are now resident in your Colony of New England, I desire you will please to as sist this gentleman, the bearer, in the regaining of them by all possible means that may be.—lt being but an accumstomed favour reciprocally shown upon all occasions to each other, in which at nutiine we shall be defective, as we expect the like from yon.—lie hath made it appear in court they are his I servants. Their names are Walter Joy, William Woodhead, and Henry King, alias Guy. So not doubting of your assist anee herein. I rest your servant. WILLIAM BERKELEY.” This principle, coeval with the first establishment of our free and religious ancestors in the Western World, and acknowl edged and acted upon as a sort of voluntary fathily compact . springing out of tile relatione of kindred and neighbourly in tercourse ann ng the Colonies, was, after the era of our Nation al Independence, converted into a solemn and binding contract among all the Sates, arid now forms one of the chief corner stones of our present Constitutional Union. The single ques tion is, shall this contract be fairly and faithfully performed by those who entered into it, who still five under the protec tion of the Union of which it was a fundamental condition, and who pledged to each other their sacred flrtth to abide by ; and fulfil all its obligations. I say the question is deduced to this, for after the utter failure of every attempt to impugn the constitutionality of a ■ law identical in principle with that of 171)3, which has alrea dy passed through the or deal of repeated Judicial decisions, , it is apparent that the real objection felt to the present law, is that it is somewhat better adapted in its details than its pre decessor to cifrry into effect the object of the Constitutional injunction. lias it riot, indeed, been operily proclaimed by the preachers of this new Crusade that there is a law ‘above the Constitution’ which absolves, even, from tlie obligations of a solemn oath taken to support that instrument ? A sacrileg ious perversion such as this can never, I am persuaded, find either apologists or followers among tlie true descendants of a Puritan ancestry. Admit that disagreeable and painful circumstances may sometimes attend the enforcement of this law, or any other,’ indeed, which may be made in pursuance of this article of the Constitutional compact. I am not ignorant of, nor would I 1 condemn, the sensibility which is painfully affected by these things. The obligation of fidelity to a solemn engagement, the sanctity of our oaths does not she less remain', it seldom happens in this life that the path of duty is strewed alone with flowers. We must take things as the all-wise and merciful author of our being per nits them to exist, leaving to his over ruling Providence, amid the mixed conditions of humanity, tis ‘educe good cut of evil.’ Here stands before us in the plain imperative letter of the Constitution the solemn engage ment that fugitives from service or lain r ‘ shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom sneli service or labor may be due.’ However disagreeable the occasional performance of this engagement may be in individual eases: good faith, hon ■ or, duty—the obligations of law, morality and religion—all require that an engagemeut thus solemnly contracted should be faithfully and sternly fulfilled. Tin* eapfive Roman Gener al who was permitted to accompany the C.arfhn: enian Ambas sadors to Rome on amission of peace, upon his protn'se so lemnly given to return into captivity i.’ the mission Should fail, did not hesitate, when tb coni’ igonev occurredI,’ 1 ,’ to go back and assume his fetters again too a pontiff \.S found to absolve nim from hie oath n io ‘ sem<* pVt* that is now l put forward by our modern political casu ts, and though the ai nost egctpr> consequence of his stern fidelity to his plighted word wasp.be creel death which lie afterwards underwent.— i The perilous crisis at which we have now arrived in the pro gress of oui national destinies, calls for something of this ele vated Roman virtue to the ancient good feeling, and the an cient good seiSse in which our happy aid noble Union had its origin. What is there in tlie mad ravings of fanaticism, or in the cunning devices of politicians contriving new schemes, by popular agitation, for their own elevatioh, to be put in corns petition with the inestimable blessings of thte Union on all it mernbers,tfc the vast issues ofeivil A p> litieal lilierty, & of social progress throughout the world, which depend upon its preser vation ? There are those, I know, who say the Unionism no danger, happen what may to she Fugitive SfTve Law. I am no political Cassandra, as you will !>car me witness. Such is my devotion to the Union and so profound is my convic tion of its vital necessity to each and ml its members, that my faith in its stability has hitherto defied every apprehension.— But I am now compt-lled to say that if the law in question, sanctioned and demanded as it is by the Constitution and forming an integral and important part of the critical adjust- I ment made during the last session of Congress, should, from any unhappy influence, be repealed or essentially changed in its character, the Union, in my humble judgment, deeply as I should deplore the catastrope, could not survive the blow. You know how deeply disaffected several of the Southern States already are, (whether upon sufficient grounds or not, I will not stop to enquire) by some of the measures which enter ed into that adjustment, and that secession from the Union is now openly & vigorously urged upon them as the onY remedy for the alleged wrongs to which they have bet et subjected. Others of tlie Slaveholding States, howeVei 1 , animated by a j devoted and predominant attachment to the Union, have man ifested a willingness to accept and abide by that adjustment as a whole , if adhered to and fulfilled, in all parts, with loy alty and good faith by the other parties. In this category I may mention my own State Virginia, with Maryland, Ken tucky, North Carolina, Louisiana, and Missouri. All these States have shown a hearty disposition, down to the present time, to acquiesce in and sustain the compromise of the last cession of Congress. These, however, are precisely the States which, from their position, are most of all interested in the maintenance of the Fugitive Slave Law ; and if snch a flag rant breach of the recently concluded compromise as well as of the long-standing obligations of the Constitution should be consummated as the repeal or material alteration of that law would present, it cannot be doubted that an indignant sense of injury and wrong would at once add all these States to the active mass of discontent already existing at the South, and render the preservation of the Union, under so deplora- I ble a condition of things, hopeless and impraticabie. It becomes patriots ami reflecting men in every quarter I of the Union, whether in public or private life, seriously to contemplate these dangers and to guard against them by timely vigilance and unshrinking firmness. Let the sad abyss I of slavery agitation, which has of late so fearfully yawned up ! on us, be henceforward closed forever. The compromise of the last session of Congress—sealed as it was by so much of patriotic devotion both of the North and South, of the East and West, consecrated and adorned l by some of the brightest and proudest names in our annals of both political parties, and ratified by the grateful acclaim of the Nation —wisely anticipated and settled every question which can ever reasonably arise in connexion with this sensi tive triid distracting theme. Let The people (for the remedy is happily with them) frown upon every one, who would seek to disturb that compromise or re-open any of tlie questions settled by it, as an enemy of tlie public pMce, and of that Union which is the ‘breath of life’ to all our’ pursuits, as it is of our glorious hopes and pro spects in the fufsre. A noble and cheeririg voice, arising above the roar of tho ocean, publishing to the world ihe magnanimous resolves of the great popular meeting at Castle Garden, has just reach ed us in this distant land.- I trust it will be echoed and pro longed by every city and town and village, and by voluntary gatherings of the poopie, amid the peaceful hills and valleys of our country, ’till every discordant note of faction shall be rebuked and drowned irt one universal and exulting cry of tiik Constitution and the Union forever. Thanking you again, my dear sir, for your interest in this’ patriotic work, I remain Very truly and faithfully yours, W. C. RIVES. To Colin M. Inge moll, Esq., New Haven, Connecticut. NO.- 42.