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VOL. I. ahe Georgift Citizen ‘ ,< published, every Saturday morning, in Macon, Ga. on the follow- CONDITIONS : If paid strictly in advance - - $2 50 per annum j If not ho paid - - - - 300 “ “ i Advertisements will be made to conform to the following pro visions of the Statute:— Sales of I Jtnd and Negroes, by Executors, Administrators and Guard ian*, are required by law to be advertised in a public gazette, sixty davs previous to the day of sale. These sales must be held on the first Tuesday in the month,between the hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the afternoon, at the Court House in the county in which the property is situated. The sales of Personal Property must be advertised in like manner for ty days. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty days. , _ Notice that application will lie made to the Court of Ordinary tor leave to sell Land and Negroes, must be published weekly for foru months. Citation* or 1 sitters of Administration must be published thirty days —for Dismission from Administration, monthly, tu months —for Dis mission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for foreclosure of mortgage, must lie published monthly, fur fsur months —for establishing lost papers, for the full space of three months —for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators where no has been given by the deceased, the full space of three •months. Professional and business Cards, inserted, according to the follow- scale: ‘For 4 lines or less per annum - - $5 HO in advance - 0 lines .... - - - 7 00 “ “ ‘l.lO “ “ “ - 810 00 “ “ Transient Advertisements will be chargedßl, per squftre of 12 Huies or less, for the first and 50 cts. for each subsequent nsertion.-“-’ ‘flo these rates there will be a deduction of 20 percent, on settlement, 4vl-eh advertisements are continued 3 months, w ithout alteration. j -o- vii Letters except those containing remittances must be post ttii or /fv . . ! Postmasters and others who ViH act as Agents for the I mv retain 20 per cent, for their trouble, on ail ctrsh subscriptions for- ; i OFFI Eon Miillfc ry Street, East of tire Floyd House and near the ( IV a fro si nmi l *€nfits. k£L hAN & BEL L, Attorn ys at Law and General Land Agents, Atlanta, Ga., Will practice in DeKalb and adjoining counties; and in the SitpreineiConrt at Decatur.— Will also visit any part of j the country f'pr the settlement of claims, <fc. without suit. Ilf Kopnty Land Claims rnosKCUTKD with despatch. Office on White Hall &t., over Dr. Denny’s Drug Store, j A. R. KKL’.AM. M. A. BELL. i S. & R. P. HALL, Attorneys ot Loir , .11 a con, Georgia. T'JU MTK'K in Bibb, Crawford. Houston, Epson, Monroe. Macon, Dooly, Twiggs,Jones and Pike counties; and in the SupnJA H Court at Macon, Decatur,Talliotton and Anterirns. . h er Smott, C.vßit\ht & Co.'s Stub*. ;1 L IHL.f. ty Will. k. Attorney Sr Counsellor at Law. > IVI A CON, GA. &T “men V IIALL. March 21,1830. - 1— lv “ JOHN m; lillen, ‘I ATTORNEY AT LAV/, SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. June 28th, 1850. 14—I}^ I‘. <;. ARRINGTON, Attorney at Lav/ and Notary Public, Ogidhoi jn', Wiicon Cos., dec 14 G E (Pit (Ml. 38—ts D AVID REID, J . P , AND NOTARY PUBLIC,—MACON, GEO. COMMISSIONER OF DEEDS, &c., for the States of J Alabama, Louisiana, Texas, l>UU£fiSe£7-f Kentucky, Virginia,"North Carolina, fMnv:trT vw mia, Flori da ,Missouri, New York. Massachusetts, C.mnri ■ :eut, IVun- i sylvsnia, Ohio. Indiana, Illinois, Arkansas Mu • >•*. &.c. Depositions taken, Accounts probated, Deeds and Mort gages drawn, and all doemnents and instruments of writing prepared and authenticated for use and record, in any of the -above States. i Residence on Walnut street, near the African church. O’ Public Office adjoining Dr. M. S. Thomson's Botan- : ic Store—opposite Floyd Douse. Macon, dune 28, 1850 14—ly REMEMBER! 11711. KN in your extremity that Dr. .11. S. THOMSON is y y still in Uflacon, G-eorg’ia, and when written to, sends j Medicine by mail to any part of the country. Dontgive up aj| hope without consulting biiu. June 7,185tV 11 —ts Clje poet’s Corner, From the Tallahassee Sentinel. “E Plurilms Inum.” Suggested by reading the speech of the Don. T.angdon Clieeves, delivered at the late Nashville Convention. Gloomy clouds are gathering o’er us Thunder tones are heard in air, While the lightning's vivid flashes, Tell us that the storm is near 1 Startled heroes from their slumbers, Waken into life again; Heroes of our nation’s councils, Heroes of the bloody plain ! Lo! a sad and solemn phalanx, With their stern rebuking eyes, Come they now with tones of warning, To their country, from the skies See a shadowy form among them, Hovering near in anguish wild ; Liberty —our angel mother, Weeps above her recreant child. Her last, best—most glorious offspring, Is she doomed to lose that too ? May united voice of nations Answer for our country—“ No /” 11a! disunion! ban the traitor From whose lips such sounds go forth ; Traitor to the name of Freedom, Traitor to the South——the North ! Traitor to the sacred memories, Linked unto our holy sod— Traitor to his buried sires, To his country—-to his God ! Stay thy hand thou blinded zealot, Death of Freedom wouldst thou see ? Bring “ disunion ”—then would despots Swell the cry of “ victory ?” Cannot brother yield to brothe” The faint semblance of “aright? ’ Cannot children of one mother Bear what even strangers might ? Do we counsel lo dishonor ? God forbid !—should just cause come ? Every husband, son or brother Should go forth from every home. A\ e would gird them for the contest, Checking every idle sigh ; And with nn unfaltering bosom, Proudly bid them “ do or die.' 1 But shall sister urge lier brother, To this fierce, unatural strife ? Can the son be blest by mother, Or the husband blest by wife ? Kindred til's our souls are binding, May those ties be ne’er undone, Loud “ Amen ” swells through the nation, North and South, we still are one! By our high hopes of the future ; By the glories of the past; Oh ! my country, be thv'tvateliword “ Go . and Union 11 —-to the lost! Cherry Dike, Feb. 1851. 0. Matrimony. A couple sat beside the fire, Debating which should first retire; The husband sportively had said — ■“ Wife vou shall go and warm the bed “ I never will, 1 ’ she quirk replied, “ 1 did so once and nearly died ** And J will not, 1 ’ rejoined the spouse, With firmer tone and lowering brows; And thus a war of words arose, Continuing till they nearly froze — When both grew mute —and hovering Higher, Around the faintly glini'ringfiic', They- trembled o’er the dying embers, As though the ague'had seized their members, L Resolved like heroes ne’er to yield, jra But force each other from the field; j AlwPdras this once fond lovie • pair . In silence sliook and shivered there, / Till every sjKirk of fire was gone, And cocks were c aving for the <tw3, j When p/i ...* oiiee the husband said— j “ Wife, lr.iJ’at we better go to bed ’ / | Tljc Garden of Matrimony, I GOOD ADVICE TO YOU KG I.ADIES. I To Miss W , Knowing that you atj e about to enter a garden enclosed, and that you\ are> a t present, a stranger to this garden, permit iue,J an old friend to give you account of it. 1 have! travel led every part, and every path : know every fL-oduc of every kind it can possibly yield— audf as iny information can do no harm, it may do you some good. \ou know there is but one way of entrau C( }. J need hardly tell you that it is extremely galy aa d glittering—strewed with flowers of every luf e an d fragrance, with all that art or imagination can invent. Vou may .fondly this scene of raj g ure nt’iTi notYiedi the end oAytie j path when you enter it. To sonle it proves a Vqrt -■>ne ; and to you it may appear ‘very JiViereiit iuVie rctrpspect V, Here, my dear girl, let me caution you, n™to dream of perpetual bliss, if you do, expeWencQ will show you tb Vit never existed on earth, saVe hi vis ions or visionary heads. \■ , You will meet with many productions in t|iis gar den which are charming to the eye, and pleasant to the taste ; but they are not all so. Let me juaV re mark that you are carrying into this garden oneV>f the most delicious and delicate pjants in nature ;\l mean Good Humor. Don’t drop it, or lose it maV ny have done, soon after they entered, who keldoml if ever found it again, it is a treasure which noth ing can make up to you. v - —Whett-yoa -g<4.to fheeud of - the first walk, which lasts about thirty steps, commonly called the Honey moon//uth, you will see the garden open in a vast variety of views: and here 1 must caution you a gainst some productions, which are nauseous and noxious, and even fatal in their tendency to the un wary and ignorant. The is a low, small plant, which may be seen in almost every path, called Indifference, tho’ not per ceived at the entrance. You will always know when near the plant, though you do not see it, by a cer tain coldness in the air which surrounds it. Con trary to all others, it thrives in cold and dies in | warmth. Whenever you perceive this, change your situation as soon as you can. In the same path is often found that ugly, yellow flower, called Jealous!/, which 1 wish you never to look at. Turn from it as fast as possible: for it has a strange quality of tinging the eye that beholds it, with a stain which it seldom gets rid of. As you go in, you will meet with many little, ; crooked paths; but do hot go into them. I advise you, as a friend, never to attempt it, for though in the entrance of each is written in a large letters — i lu j thcrujht way,’ when you get in. ninecases out of ten ! you will find the true name to be and that you are in the wrong, and will not acknowledge it. This often occasions endless disputes; here is a source of perpetual difference, and sometimes a final separation in the garden. Near this spot, you w ill meet with a sturdy knotty plant, called Obstinacy, bearing a hard, bitter fruit, which becomes fatal when taken in large quantities, Turn from it, avoid it as you would the plague. Just opposite to this grows that lowly, loving shrub Compliance, w hich though not pleasant to the i palate is salutary and sweet, and produces the most ; delicious fruit in the garden. Never be without a ; sprig of it in your hands; it will be often be wanted , as you go along; if you do not you will surely re | pent the want of it. | All over the garden you will find a useful plant j called Economy. It is of a thriving quality; take a good stock of it as you go in. It adorns and enrich es at the same time. Many entirely overlook it, others think they do not want it, It is generally forgotten in the hurry and the gaiety with which people generally enter this place, hut the want of it is generally repaid by bitter repentance. 1 must tell you, unlesssyou partake of it, it will answer but little end to either. You may, if you please, carry some with you into the garden ; but it is a hundred to one if you do not lose it going thro’ it. This is more useful than any you w ill find there, for it is of another sort. Provide yourself and part ner with a quantity of it, as soon as you can w hen in the place. You observe as you pass, two or three paths, which run much into one another; I mean those ot Hey ularity, Exactness and Neatness. Do not think as many do, that when you once are in, you may be careless of your person and dress. Remember that your companion will see some that are not so ; this difference will strike his eye, if not offend it. Enter those paths almost as soon as you enter the garden, and take my word for it, you will never find it after wards, “Jnkpcniicttt in all tilings—-Neutral in Notl)ing.” MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, MARCH 13, 1851. Near this walk, is found that invaluable shrub, ! Humility. ‘lbis, though of no worth in itself, yet I joined to other good qualities, is worth them all put together. It is never seen without being admired; and is most admirable when not visible. Thev sav, “virtue is its own reward;” 1 am certain that pride is its own punishment. Flee from it as from conta gion, which it strongly resembles. It infects and corrupts. Cultivate, with all your care, the humble ! plant now mentioned, as the best jjntidote against j the poisonous weed. Allow me now to drop a hint on the subject of cul- j tivation, as that most probably will be your employ- j inent. Seould you be entrusted with the reamer of a flower, remember two things; first, that it is but a flower, however fair—frail in its nature, and fading at every blast; and secondly, that it is a flower iiF trust, for the cultivation ot which you are account able to the owner of the garden. Should you be a witness to ji blast on its dawning beauties, oh, how your fluttering heart will bleed with tenderness. Let affection sympathize. Your feelings may be conceived, but they cannot be de scribed. The young shoot will naturally and insensi bly twine round the fibres of your fraiFy. Should it live and thrive, spare no pains to teach the young production how to rise. water it, prune it; it will need them all. AN ithout this, many weeds will spring up, and r?fisdn the very soil on which it j grows. Re member Ah is is a trust for which you are ae countablfeifo him who gave it. That you may bo the sweetest productions of this garden— j they may be the delight of your eyes, and that and them when the summer of this life is over be transplanted to some happier soil, and flour in immortal vigor, in perfect and permanent fe i ifoity, is the sincere wish of your affectionate friend. The Alpine Horn. The Alpine Horn is an instrument made of the bark of the cherry tree, and, like the speaking trumpet, is used to convey sounds to a great dis tance. \\ hen the last rays of the sun gilds the sum mits of the Alps, the shepherd who inhabits the highest peak of these mountains, takes his horn, and cries with a loud voice, “ praised be the Lord !” As soon as the neighboring shepherds hear him, they leave their liuts, and repeat these words. The sounds are prolonged many minutes, whilst the ech | <‘os of the mountains and grottos of the rocks repeat the name of God. Imagination cannot picture any thing more solemn or sublime than such a scene.— 1> tring the silence that succeeds, the slu-pherds bend their knees and pray in the open air, and then re pa -to their huts to rest. The sunlight gilding the to] of these stupendous mountains upon which the vui.it of heaven seems to rest, the magnificent scenery around, and e voices of the shepherds sounding from rock to the praise of the Almighty, must fill the mind of every traveller with enthusiasm and awe.— Scientijic . 1 *yerican. r > J Pluck. 4 Yes, pluck—that is the great secret of success in life ! Never “say die,’’ when you attempt to do any tiling ; stick to it through thick and thin ; in sunshine and storm, and you’ll rarely fail of attaining your ends. The most successful men in every calling have been those who have concentrated all their thoughts and energies upon someone object ; who have fastened upon it with vice like grasp, and main tained under all circumstance, a stubborn pertina cious, never-yielding hold-on-ativeness. AYhoever heard of a man’s failing to go ahead, at last, in any business that lie had stuck to faithfully for ten years vtogether? Hear what the shrewd Holmes stiys of Tfchi■> dogged tenacity: , \ “Be firm ; one constant element in luck genuine, solid old Teutonic pluck. ißee you tall shaft, it felt the earthquake's thrill, Clnng to its base and greets the sunrise still, >?tii<k to your aim, the mongrel’s hold will slip, But crowbars only loose the bull-dog’s grip, Small asi he looks, the jaw that never yields, Drags down tho bellowing monarch of the fields.” Workmen should Study. AVe respectfully trounsel those whom we address, (the workingmen of by in erica) we counsel you to la bor for a clear understanding of the subjects which agitates the community fv,to make them your study instead of wasting your leisure in vague passionate talk about them. The tiinV thrown away by the mass of the people on the rumbas of the day, might, if better spent, give them a goodWquaintancc with the “constitution, laws, history a nil interests of the country, and thus establishing tlieki on the great principles by which particular menLurcs are to he determined. In proportion as the people thus im prove themselves, they will cease to oc the tools of designing politicians. Their not their passions and jealousies, will be addressed\bv those who seek their votes. They will exercise not a nom inal, but ;t real influence in the government atiJ vles tinies of the country, and at the same time will for ward their own growth and virtue. A Good Daughter. There are ministers of love more conspicuous than she, but none in which a gontler, lovelier spirit dwells and none to which the heart’s warm requitals more joyfully respond—she is the steady light of her fath er’s house. Her ideal is indissolubly connected with that of his happy fireside. She is the morning sun light and evening star. The grace, vivacity and ten derness of her sex, have their places in the mighty sway which she holds over his spirit. The lessons of recorded wisdom which she reads with her eyes, ; come to his mind with anew charm, as blended with the beloved melody of her voice, lie scarcely knows weariness, for her song makes him forget it, or gloom, which is proof against the young bright ness of her smiles. She is the pride and ornament of his hospitality, the gentle nurse of his sickness, and the constant agent of those nameless numberless little acts of kindness, one chiefly cares to have ren dered, because they are unpretending, but expensive proofs of love. The Home of Taste, How easy to be neat! How easy to arrange the rooms with the most graceful propriety? llow ea sy it is to invest our houses with the truest elegance! Elegance resides not with the upholsterer or draper —it is not the mosaics or carpetings, the rosewood, the mahogany, tho candelabra, or marble ornaments —it exists in the spirit presiding over the chambers of the dwelling. Contentment must always be most graceful; it sheds serenity over the scene of its a bode; it transforms a waste into a garden. The home lighted by these intimations of a nobler and brighter life may be wanting in much the discontent- ed desire ; but to its inhabitants it may be a palace, J far outvieing the oriental in brilliancy and glory. M.WBWWI *r>.earscKX. Father and Mother. Father, is a word with me which is wondrously influential, nor can 1 think of it, without mingled j reverence and filial affection. ‘As a father pitieth his ; children,’ says David, and we feel the pity he de scribes. ‘ Hear ye children the instruction of a fatli er, 1 says Solomon—we acknowledge the authority with reverence. ‘ I will rise and go unto my father,’ : said a poor prodigal—and his words thrill the heart. ‘My father! my father! the chariots of Israel, and the horsemen thereof,’ cried, Elisha, when Elijah -ifjTby the whirlwind into heaven; and the ex clamation arrests our very soul. Few who have felt : the kindly, correcting and fostering influence of a lather, but must feel, at the name, somewhat in the way that I have described. And yet the great util- i ity of a father, lies in what you call the “ preventive j service ”—not letting his son have his own way, nor 1 Ids own will. Mother, is a word to which every bosom responds, It finds its way to our hearts in our youth, and re tains its hold upon us in our age. It fathers are looked up to, for precept, principle and example, mothers are relied upyti for tenderness and endur- ; ing affection. Fathers are strongholds of safety; mothers are sources of love and consolation. The j word mother, is a soft balmy breeze coining up from the valleys, sweet, soothing and grateful; cooling I the fevered brow, calming tho ljuffled spirit, and tran quilizing the agitated heart. NY hat voice was ever like the tender soft voice of a mother ? Barry Cornwall. Barry Cornwall rarely writes ncAß.lax s, but the following exquisite lines, which he has contrfcut -.1 lately to the Ladies | Companion, are in his best style, usi-! send “ an echo to the seat where love is throned Sit near! sit near! I kiss thy lips, Ripe, richer than the crimson cherry. Girl, canst thou love me in eclipse? Tell me, and bid my soul be merry, My light is dim, my fortune fled ; I’ve nothing save the love I bear thee, Give back thy love or 1 am dead ; A word—a look—whilst I can hear thee. Sit nearer ! near ! I kiss thine dyes ; There—where the white lid)s part asunder, I love thee—dost thou hear Gy sighs? Love me beyond the worlds thou wonder ? My life is spent. I’ve nothing left To tender now, save love's feoft duty ; Yet, gaze I—of all else berefr, — And feed till death upon t/hy beauty. The acuteness of a sheep’s eltr surpasses anything in nature that I know of. Aisi ewe will distinguish her own lamb’s bleat amuiig J thousand, all braying tU|M|jMtuc. l t*- mistiuguisbnient of i reciprocal te deafening sound, rifh to meet olp i T't rk •••> t'. ‘v tfougs that have ever a inased me more tlu* a sheep shearing, and then the sport continues thcAvhole day. AVe put the flock into the fold, set out all the lambs to the hill, and then set out the ewes to them as fast as they are shorn. The moment that a lamb hears the dam’s voice it rushes from the crowd to meet her; hut in stead of finding the rough, well clad, comfortable mamma which it left an hour or a few hours ago, it meets a poor, naked, shivering, deplorable looking creature. It wheels about, and uttering ji loud trem ulous bleat of perfect despair, flies from the fright ful vision. The mother’s voice arrests its flight; it returns, flies, and returns again generally for ten or a dozen times before the reconcilement is fairly made up. — The Etrick Shepherd. Dr. (li; IjHPrs. The following amusing incident, is taken from Dr. Hanna’s life of Chalmers: The peculiarity which reigned over all the domes tic regulations was sometimes not a little inconve nient to Dr. Chalmers’ guests. His aunt while liv ing in the house, appearing one morning a little k> late for breakfast, and well knowing what awaited ; her if she exposed herself defence less to the storm, j tlius managed to divert it:—“Oh! Mr Chalmers,” I she exclaimed, as she entered the room, “ 1 had sueli a strange dream, last night: 1 dreamt that you were dead.” “Indeed!” said Mr. Chalmers, quite arrested by an announcement ] icli bore so direct i ly upon bis future history. “Audi dreampt,’’ con tinued she, “that the funeral and; ‘ was named, and the funeral cards were written, and the day came ;Jkl the folks came, and what to ou think happen- • !%? AY by the clock had scarce! done chapping— | yitriking—twelve, which hid bet u the hour named i in the cards, when a loud knocking was heard with in the coflin, and a roice, gay, peremptory, and ill pleased like, came out of it, saying “Twelve's chap pit, and ye’re no ITtiuY’ Air. Chalmers was himself i j too great a humorist not to relish a joke so quickly and r i cleverly contrived, and in the hearty laugh which fallowed, the ingenious culprit felt that she had ac- i comyJ.Ul'ed .vrore than an escape. The Decencies of Life. Their arc some persons in the world, says the Cin- ‘ cinnati Nonpareil, who, in order to screen them- 1 selves from the charge of extravagance and folly, ! try to (To it under the plea of decency. These per sons will commit many acts, which if they had true \ ideas of decency, they would hate to perpetuate.— ; AVe think the following are a few of the many prac tices that can come under the cognomen of not j decent. It is not decent for a person to make a show a- | hove his or her means. It is not docent for a man to run in debt when he ‘ does not intend to pay. It is not decent for persons to be always talking ill j about their neighbors. It is not decent to ascribe improper motives to every one we coiue in contact with. It is not decent for one to appropriate others’pe- j cuniary means for their own gratification. It is not decent for young people to show no re- j spect to the aged. It is nut decent to ha praising yourself always. It is not decent in persons going to church to in commode others by making a noise. It is not decent to spend your money in foolish ness, when you have debts that ought to he paid. It is not decent to starve your family by spend your money for liquor. It is not* decent to cheat your neighbor, because you happen to have a little more knowledge than he is possessed of. • It is not decent to take a paper and then refuse to pay for it. Fashionable Piety in Sew York. Dr. Ilnvkes, a distinguished clergyman, and one of the ablest, most eloquent and most fashion i able preachers in New York, has become pastor of ! Calvary church at that place. His regular salary we believe, is fixed at six or seven thousand dollars a year. In addition to this handsome remuneration for writing and delivering two sermons a week, liis generous congregation relieved him from the embar rassment of numerous heavy debts that he had pre viously contracted. Soon after the Doctor’s accept -1 anee of this charge, the pews of the church were sold at auction. On the first day, there were nine ty sold, the prices of which, for one year’s use, rang ed from *O3O to $1,G50 ; making a total altogether |of $30,000. The sale of the remainder of the pews will probably raise the whole amount to $50,000. : Hurrah for Dr. llawkes and Jenny Lind. ’ = An Aflccling Scene. I In a lawyer’s office, in a remote part of Conneeti -1 cut, laid a mortgage for eleven hundred dollars, which was within a few days of being due. One ! morning the man on whose place the mortgage was held, called and enquired if the payment could not be put off for a short time. He was somewhat ad ! vanced in life and very intemperate. The lawyer, in reply to his inquiries, said that the man who held the mortgage wanted his money—that he was sorry, but it could not be extended. The tears came into j the old man’s eyes, and after standing a few minutes j an image of perfect despair, he turned and left the I office. He returned home, believing that in a few days his aged and infirm wife and invalid daughter, would have to quit the roof which had so long shel tered them, and seek a home he knew not where. He could say nothing to them about it, for it would cause them so much grief. The mortgage became due, and in the morning early the farmer again re paired to the lawyer’s office. He pleaded for time, but to no purpose. Over come with emotion, the old man sunk into a chair, and their sat for two hours, apparently unconscious of anything that was- passing around him, when a carriage drove up to the door and a lady stepped from it. She entered the office. After standing a few moments, eyeing the old man with interest and emotion, she spoke. The old man looked up. “ Father, how do you do ?” “O, Sarah, lam well but sad. I am glad to see you, but sorry foryour aged mother and invalid sis ter, I cannot return to them, for it will be for to tell them that they have no home, and this I cannot bear. It will kill your poor mother.” “ Father, father,” said the daughter, “ could yon live a temperate man if this were paid “ Yes, O yes! I would; but it cannot be, for I have nothing to pay it with.” 4 ‘ Now sign the pledge and here is the money.” The old man put his name to the redeeming, the saving pledge, and returned to his home with a hap -1 pv heart. The daughUyfehad-sayed the eleven hundred dol •lajjr theij^tory. r Political. ■Address of Lewis Morris on tlie Iniou, in 1787. 1 bog leave to claim the attention of my fellow citizens, a few moments, on the subject of the consti tution, proposed by a convention of the United States, for their future government. Well aware of my inability to do it justice, I will submit to you a few considerations that may be wor thy remark :—First, its importance in preserving a Union, established at one common risk, one com mon interest, and sealed with the common blood of our citizens: its relation to our internal strength and security. Second, our commerce.* Third, its saluta ry effects upon the landed interest; and Fourth, up on the people of this State as public creditors. Ist. From the administration of our State gov ernments since the peace, it evidently appears that local interests have had a stronger in fluence upon them than their social and political i compact—the members have conspired against the : head—every day widens the breach. Experience | constantly admonishes us of one truth, that when i there is no penalty, there cannot be any obligation. I Union, therefore, by being able to control the differ-! ent members of the confederacy, can render its parts J active in its preservation, from which results internal , security and external defence. This important idea, j j if traced in all its attitudes, shapes and various ex- I i tents, will be found in the efficient construction of | the new constitution, whereby the love, peace and | happiness, and interest of a part is obtained by a j like affection of the whole. 2d. The commerce of our country, which is the real source of wealth, cannot be promoted but by j the Union of America. By general laws we can make terms of trade with the British or any other j nation of Europe, advantageous to ourselves, and instead of being exposed as we now are, to restric- j lions, and subject to send our own produce from our | own country as freighters of their vessels, atari im mense expense, we shall become carriers for them in ships of our own building. 1 have heard many people remark that Great Brit- 1 ain received more benefit from us now than when ! under her government. This I can readily conceive. ! Not charged with any colonial expenses, she takes our produce from us at her own price; she imposes j her manufactures upon us at her own price ; we pay i her for the transportation of our own, and we pay her for the importation of hers. This is our death. It may be well to penetrate, if possible, into the se- j crct of this evil ; we shall find it springing from the j qualities of the two governments. Compare them. > ! We shall find one constantly examining itself, and adequate, by prudent policy, to the reparation of a ’ defect in any of its laws. The other, a slow opera ! tion of disunited bodies, inclined from every motive | to fiy from its centre, without any object to return ’ them to it, r> ailing each other in commercial regu lations and in all national pursuits, j 2d. The landed property, instead of being 25 or 30 per cent below Mhat it stood in the year 1774, will rise much higher in value than it was at that pe | riod. The new constitution goes directly to produce I j this change. Asa friend to the merchant it is a j friend to the farmer—their interests are the same.— j Whatever then operates to the advantage of com merce, extends itself to agriculture. The stability of laws enacted by the representa tive body of the Union will give a circulation to all | the silver and gold in the country. The farmers will ho able to borrow money on the strength of their landed possessions. Confidence will succeed to dis trust—w ill extend itself to citizens of the same State, to citizens of different States: and to all ranks of the community. Upon this security, foreigners will compare their happiness at home, to the advantages this country ■ may afford. The view will be tlaltering to their fu ture fortunes, and the precarious funds of Europe will I be (trained, to accomplish the valuable acquisition of procuring American lands. Let us unite, and we , shall be feared. If we split, we shall be despised— | foreign policies w ill sport with our Lilies and weak i ness ; we shall be played otf against each other. If my information is right, the constitution proposed has justly alarmed the cabinet of Britain, whose views are by no means withdrawn from ws. I In the event of Union, the people of this State are particularly interested as public creditors. It cannot be denied that the rise of landed property, the in crease of commerce, and a prudent management of ottr imports and excises, w ill be a fruitful source of revenue, vastly superior to the exigencies of govern ment. The surplus wifi be applied to tire fiquida | tion of the foreign and domestic debt. The former | may be advantageously paid otf, through the medi um of commercial intercourse, under a proper agen cy. The latter, by assuming a national description, will be consolidated into one general mass, the inter est of w hich will be provided for annually, and be called American Stuck. Under these considerations it may not be amiss to remark, that this State, du- I ring the Late war, was the theatre of action. As sailed on every side by the common enemy, its mil itia were often in the held ; its quota of continental troops were largej and the supplies furnished by the farmers, have left them to this day with no other signs of payment than their just and large demands. It then follows, that its farmers and soldiers, having more due them than citizens of other States, in pro portion to their numbers, will have more to receive. The Sword and the Plough will not, until this time, meet each its proper reward. One national stock, interesting the individuals generally in its preservation, will foster an affection for each other.. In case of disunion, leould draw a picture of the consequences, founded upon hmnan nature, that would pierce the coldest heart with horror: ambi tion would feed discord ; the strong would oppress tire weak ; violent passions would be played olf a j gainst violent prejudices ; and who knows, but from the wreck of the general confusion, some despot may arise and rob us of our liberties forever. Tiik Northern Pulpit.— WcTcju’ce to perceive that the Northern Pulpit siill continues to prove it self faithful to its true mission and to the great char ter of Christian Truth, as well as to the American’ Constitution, by holding up before the Northern peo ple their solemn duty as citizens in regard to the in* stitution of sJhvery. Rev. I>. Wheaton, rector of Christ Church, Hartford, Connecticut, has recently delivered an excellent sermon upon this subject, the scojk> and spirit of which may be gathered from the following extract Philemon was a citizen af Colosse in Asia Minor, and evidently a man of wealth and consideration in his own city. But that of which it principally con cerii'yos now to speak, is the esteem in which he was held*by such a man. as St. Paul. Ile hud been’ con* verted by that Apostle to the Christian faith; he is commended for his ‘‘love and faith towards the Load; Jesus, and towards all Saints.” St. Paul calls him* “our dearly beloved and fellow laborer,” whom he “always mentioned in his prayers,” and in whose “ love he had great joy and consolation, because,”’ says he, “ the bowels of the Saints are refreshed by thee, brother.” We may look in vain through’ all! the Epistles for a similar instance of tender friendship and personal esteem for a man in the private walks of life. Many such are indeed mentioned w ith dis tinguished honor, but no one of them has-bc-en haa ded down to ns so richly embalmed—so consecrated by the dear affections of the chiefest* of the Apostles as Philemon of Colosse. Philemon was a slaveholder. One of his slaves, Onesimus, escaped from his bonds, and found his way to Rome, where St. Paul then was, an honora ble prisoner within limits, but allowed to exercise the ministry. There Onesimus bears the Aj>ostle preachy and is converted to the faith of Christ. He seeks an interview with the Apostle, whom he had probably known at the house of his master in former days, confesses to him that lie is a fugitive, and solicits his counsel. A case is now presented, in which all the eireumstances concur to bring to a decision, and be fore a competent tribunal, the rights and duties of all concerned. This decision we have in the following, passage, in the letter of St Paul to Philemon “I beseech thee my son Onesimus, whom I have begotten in my bonds, which in time past was to thee unprofitable, but now profitable to thee and to me; whom l lwive sent again. Thou therefore re ceive him, that is mine own bowels, whom I would have retained with me, that in thy stead he might have ministered unto me in the bonds of the Gospel. But without thy mind I would do nothing.” The essential facts brought to our notice in this Epistle, so far as they concern our present purpose, are these: One of the best and most exemplary of Christian men and the bosom friend of an Apostle is a slave holder. The slave escapes from Ids master and finds his way to a far distant city, where he is safe from all pursuit. He is there met by an Apostle, and by him con verted to Christianity—shown the wrong he has done his master, mid sent bac-k to him, with a letter of commendation and friendly entreaty, which has ever been considered a master-piece in its kind. Union and Disunion/—The Union as it was , we loved; under its happy artspicea we Jived; for its preservation we could hare died. The Union as it is, we mourn. The Union as it will be, unless that God who caus ed Pharaoh to lot the Children of Israel go, should by a like miracle change the heart of our oppressors. Hie Union as it will be, wlren aggression abroad and submission at home have driven the South from her strongholds in the Constitution— This U nion we oppose, this Union let us dissolve, from this Unitm let us secede. If this be treason; write us down a traitor.— West Alabamian. Good! —Dallas Gazette. Let our name be registered in the same book.— South Alabamian. And add a note that ye are a trio of traitors to I your country, and undeserving the many blessings w hich ye enjoy as sons of Freedom, and remembran cers of Washington! Do not again speak of the fanatics of the North, for ye are deserving of the same anathemas which ye have so liberally lavished upon them. There is no difference between the fan atics of the North and those of the South —the same darling object actuates the two extremes —the disso lution of our glorious confederacy. Rant on, ye hot heads ! for your time for probation will soon be over. Camden Phetiix. NO. 51.