Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 2.
% ifs ijp.'J.s.iG SjKjrjUstto
From the Louisville Journal.
Take Me Home.
BY MISS VIRGINIA L. SMITH, OF MEMPHIS, TENN.
Mother ! my heart is chill—
I’m weary—l would sleep. Oh! take me homo !
Give me some lulling, lethean anodyne
To steep the quivering senses of this clay
In slumber strange and dreamless—death’s eclipse ;
Then bear this drooping spirit to thy home,
Beyond the singing stars. There is a spell
Os ice upon my soul, its freezing chain
in a gnawing poison presses down
Until the clankness fetters slowly change
AU beauty into Bitterness. My brain
Is wildtred too, and Hunting with the strife,
A mighty struggle with it* warring thoughts,
And all its fierce imaginings. The mind
That flamed at tinrts, a gorgeous comet-star,
Or glowed anon a steady, shining sun,
Now darkles on its weary, wandering way,
Like some pale nebula, far wavering through
The starless desert of the southern pole;
Lost, lost, and lone. Oh ! mother, guide it homo !
The brazen portals of a dull despair
Close on me with a hoarse and sullen clang,
That passes sharply through my shuddering sou!—
And like a bell in some time ruined tower,
Swung by the sighing, solitary wind,
My lone heart sends a hollow’ echo back.
I’m walking in a vague, unmeaning dream,
And groping onward in this horror’s mist,
Cold, clammy, clinging as the damps of death
From out the charnel-house. The light of life,
All pale and lurid, waver’mid the gloom,
As fading lamps at morning wail the death
Os Pleasure in her lonely banquet hall;
And aspirations, hopes that led me on
To dare attain the unattainable,
Now flit before me strange and meaningless,
As half-formed images that darkle through
An idiot's vacant brain !
The world to mo
Is like a sphinx—huge, dark, and mystical,
From whose still, stony eyes I win 110 glance
Os kindly sympathy —whose granite lips,
Fixed, rigid in one everlasting smile,
Mock the deep anguish of the orphan’s cry,
Hide me, niv mother, ’noatli the kindly gloom
That wraps the vale of shadows —oil! lift up
This weariness, which like an avalanche,
And freezing as its adamantine waves,
Seems crushing out the energies of life,
And filling up the dreary, aching void
With idiotic madness —terrors vague,
That creep like reptiles through the ruined br.ii.i
And crumbling heart.
Give me the anodyne,
Tire phantom madness seize me—let mo sleep !
Come, come, my mother, save thy truant child—
Sweet mother, take me home!
(Fir the Georgia Citzicn.
From the Portfolio of an Ex-Editor.
Till-: THAIUKFIL SOV,
IN ONE ACT.
Translated from the German of Engel.
BY T. D. M.
Dramatis Personar.
Roi>eß. —.Ini old Farmer.
Rachel. —His Irife.
Margaret. —llls daeghier.
Michael. — Her Groom.
Kate. — .Michael's mother.
The Sacristan of the tillage.
Captain of Cavalry.
Soldier and old Farmers of the Village.
{The Scene it, a Grove of trees in front of a little
Cottage. In the hack ground is seen a little hill.)
SCENE I
Roder. (Steps out into the shed and stretches him
self.) lam an old stupe ! I could surely sleep long
er. Jt seems to me as if lead were in all my limbs.
But to sleep ! to sleep away this lovely morning : I
cannot possibly do that. If Ido not get up to see the
sun as he rises up in the morning, it is not well with
ine that whole day. See how glorious he rises tip
there! How beautiful! What a lovely Aurora! It
is always the same, and yet ever changing. O per
haps ! perhaps my son even now is already up. In
war one cannot sleep long—perhaps he stands up then,
and beholds the sun, as joyous as I, and thinks of me,
his father, as I think of him, my son. Good, noble boy !
He has often told me, when quite small that I would
live to enjoy much happiness in him !
SCENE 11.
RODER AND RACHEL.
Rachel. Already here ? 1 knew not where you
were.
Roder. Yes, I am here; and I behold the lovely
sun as he rises. He has even reminded tne of our
Frederick. May he be doing well now, mother ?
Rachel. Ah! Perhaps he is no more.
Roder. Still always the old grief? Believe me now !
We shall see him again as certain as I live. For this
I pray to God every day.
Rachel. lie is a soldier, dear father. A soldier
has no moment of his own. llow much care and
anxiety do I continually feel on his account! Often,
when I hear his letters read, and others believe I weep
for joy, I weep then through grief. ‘lt is perhaps his
last that I shall receive.’ And the gold, father, that
always come in them : I cannot look u|k>u it without
feeling distressed and troubled in spirit. With this
gold, 1 think, the King pays him fur his blood, and shall
we, his parents, appropriate to our use his property ?
Ah ! father!
Roder. The King pays him for his blood ! (shak
ing his head.)
Rachel. What else? His blood and his life.
Roder. No, good mother! If he served a strange
master, then you would have said truly, and I wouid
not take from you a farthing of his money. But he
serves our own King. And were not his blood and
his life long since forfeited to the King ! Does not eve
ry one in the entire country belong to him?
Rachel. (Sighing.) O that it were now peace!
Ruder. The people say, it is already peace.
Rachel. The people, father! Ah ! they speak
without knowledge.
Ruder. And have they not a right to say so. when
here and there a Regiment is pressing back to its quar
ters ?
Rachel. Yes—if that were so.
Roder. It is so, mother! So don't give yourself
any uneasiness about the matter! Y\ c shall have
peace before we can turn around; and then comes our
Irederiek to live not far from us, in the town. Thitb
€r will we stroll once every week.
Rachel. (Smiling.) Oh twice, three times, father !
°nce is not often euough. But how happy will we be,
“hen we behold him again! I wonder if we will still
know him ?
Roder. Ila ! if I would still know my son !
Rachel. In officer’s clothes, father, bespangled all
oVer “hh gold, and a ribbon about his neck with a
star 1 He wears an order, I have been told.
Roder. Yes, he wears it because be has acted
L'avely ’
Rachel. llow do you think lie looks father.?
Roder. TV by ? As an honest soldier, I should
think. The coat and the ribbon are indeed worth
nothing in themselves; but the scar, mother, which
lie should have across his forehead—that is the true
badge of a soldier. LTpon whomsoever you discov
er it you may know that his heart is in the right place.
SCENE 111.
RODER, RACHEL, THE SACRISTAN.
’ [.Sacristan. Good morning, father ! good morning,
mother.
Roder. Look there! our Mr. Sacristan. (They
shake him by the hand.)
Sacristan. No news from your son ? The month
is again up.
lloder. Oh ! now [ think of it, mother, I went to
bed yesterday, before Margaret came back. lias she
brought any thing ? 1
Rachel. O yes, father ! Even a letter ! But she
still lies down and sleeps as soundly ns ever. Shall 1
wake her ?
Roder. Say toiler, that her father would see her.
[Exit Rachel.
SCENE IV.
RODER AND THE SACRISTAN.
Roder. And do you know, Mr. Sacristan, that my
son is no longer a staff-officer ? that lie commands his
own squadron of Cavalry ?
Sacristan. Not possible! Ilia own squadron 1
Roder. It is indeed true. Our Pastor read the last
letter. Indeed he is, Mr.Sacristan! It always so hap
pened that tile King was present when my son acted
bravely. So he raised him as a mark of favor to the
rank of Colonel, commanding his own squadron.
Sacristan. But how did it happen ? Tell me all
about it, father!
Ruder. \es indeed, but listen, Mr. Sacristan ! In
the last battle by-what d’ye call it ?—by—but I cannot
recollect even the name. When the whole regiment
had become torn to pieces ; the most of the officers
killed or wounded; my son, who had already become
a mark for the enemy, but undaunted, collected both
good and bad, a hundred men in all; (ever quick) lie
led them towards the enemy ; he received a wound,
and his horse shot through the body fell dead under him;
he mounted a fresh one and rode back with only fifty
men. ‘flic King saw it and gave him straightway the
command of a squdron, and promised him moreover
to make his fortune still better. Yes. yes, Mr. Sacris
tan ! What I tell you! (slapping his breast.) That
has my son done !
Sacristan. O, he is brave; that I perceived even
at school. When the boys of the village engaged in
play, Frederick always conducted himself nobly, and
when he happened to receive a blow he always return
ed it with interest. It sticks in him still, father. It
was born in him.
Roder. (Smiling.) Am I worth such a son?
SCENE V.
RODER, SACRISTAN, RACHEL, MARGARET.
Rachel. Did I not tell you so ? They were up
when I came for you.
Margaret. There, father (she gapes,) there is a
letter for you from town from brother Frederick.
And there is your monthly income. It is twelvedol^vr*.
Rachel. Six, you mean to say.
Margaret. (Gaping again.) The Post Master said
twelve.
Rachel. O I guess it already. lie has surely in
dulged us still more farther, because he has now a
much greater income, lie gives us according to his
ability. Do you not think so!
Roder. Dear, good Fred ? I can live upon the
six.
Margaret. And the wine, father, which brother
ordered for you from the old, fat wine-merchant with
the blue nose. Pray what is his name—it is now in
your room. It is a whole basket full.
Sacristan. (Very attentive.) A whole basket full ?
Eb ! eh !
Roder. You shall have a bottle of it, Mr. Sacris
tan. You ma) send for it. (The Sacristan thanks
him politely.) But you must also drink a bottle with
me, while you read the letter. Go mother ! Bring a
bott'o and three glasses for us. Also something for
breakfast. And you, Margaret, give us a table and
two stools—be quick ! [Exeunt Rachel and Margaret.]
Rachel. But don't read it until I return, I pray
you. [Says this outside of tlie door.]
SCENE VI.
RODER, THE SACRISTAN, MARGARET, [who passes back
and forth.]
Roder. Break it open immediately, Mr. Sacristan.
None of us here can read. May I then hear tv hat he
writes of peace, and if he will soon return.
Sacristan. Os peace, did you say ? Indeed the
people chat a gooddealabout it, butl venture to say that.
Why would he be so violent if it were peace?
Roder. So ? would be so violent ?
Sacristan. Yes! do you not know that yesteroay
evening a recruiting officer came here with an order to
gather up recruits ?
Rodor. To enlist soldiers ? Is that true ?
Sacristan. Yes indeed! And that tint young
people are already in alarm and anxiety on the account
of it ?
Roder. O the fools ! Wherefore in dread ? If
they are fit for the service they should go! They
should serve their King! Every man’s destiny is fixed,
said the Parson, though he falls by a cannon-ball, or fe
ver! We all must die. Do you not understand it so, Mr.
Sacristan ? That is my belief.
Sacristan. But if should take away from
your daughter her groc ? your future son-in-law ?
Take care, Roder! lien a young, active fellow.
Roder. Ah, no ! A Ainst that I pray !
Sacristan . ! Now ! p , e must not expect such a
thing. R
Margaret. (Who had already brought forth the
table, now bring also the wino and the glasses. Pulls
Roder’s sleeve.) Father—
Roder. Wliat ? what is it ?
Margaret. I wish to ask a favor of you, father.
Roder. Well! out with it!
Margaret. Yesterday evening, father, as I was
coming back, there stood Michael, my groom, without
the village ; he had waited for the whole evening and
scolded because I had staid away so long.
Roder. And what of that? Would you go thith
er to take breakfast with him ?
Margaret. (Bashful.) Yes, father.
Roder. And is it even so? without first even hear
ing the news from thy brother ? Girl! girl! I make
too much of you ! but you are the youngest chicken
of the brood, and came sneaking into the world be
hind the rest so that no one could expect much
of you : (Threatening her,) but Miss! \ou do not
love me if you love not your brother ! You do not even
so much as love your father and mother!
Sacristan. But the groom, Roder; who allows
her indeed to love him, but her father and mother?
Go Margaret! go, along!
Roder. Well now, because Mr. Sacristan thinks so.
Margaret. Yes, let me, father! lam still your
pet —[she whispers in the Sacristan's ear. as she runs
out by him.] I give you thanks dear Mr. Sacristan, [lie
nods familiarly to her.]
SCENE VII.
RODER AND THE SACRISTAN.
Sacristan. [Breaks open the letter,] what a mas
terly baud your son writes ? So plain and legible! For
that he is indebted to me. [Clears his throat and then
begins.] ‘My dear father’—
“‘Mrpiinit in nil tjjings-—Jkitriil in mitljing;*
MACON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 10, 1851.
Roder. [Listening very attentively] O good heart
ed Fred !
Sacristan. ‘A treaty of peace has just been con
cluded, so 1 write you for tlio last time from the field of
battle to’—
Roder. God be praised! So it is now peace.
How it will gladden mother !
Sacristan. ‘To remit you your income which you
will be so good as to receive from me.’
Roder. Yes!
Saeristan. ‘And as my income has so considera
bly increased, it rejoices me to send you twelve dollars
in future.
Roder. No, I will not, St#u, Every thine; should
have its limits ; even your love for me. Now again,
Mr. Sacristan.
Sacristan. ‘The other day, father, the greatest hap
piness befell me, which I have ever experienced in my
life, and which I must now relate to you.’
Roder. [Heartily delighted.] Yes! what then?
what then ?
Sacristan. ‘The King has had the goodness to take
me to his table ?
Ilodor. To his table ? My Fred at his table ?my
conscience! Then to be with all tho nobility! What
next ? what next ?
Sacristan. ‘He spoke a good deal to me and gave
me much valuable advice concerning my deport
ment’—
Roder. Yes!
Sacristan. ‘Finally lie asked me where 1 caine
from, where was my place of nativity t And if I had a
father ?’
Roder. [Laughs to himself.] Eh !so the King
has asked after me ! Good Lord ! What Mr. Sa
cristan !
Sacristan. ‘I told the name of our village and yours.
‘Your majesty’ I commenced, ‘your subjects are all
your subjects ; and lie is the most worthy—lie has the
best noblest heart who posses the most love and loyal
ty for his King : and I make bold to say that l have a
father who is one of your most loyal subjects. lam
proud of him, and I glory in him. Yes ! though poor
and humble, I would not exchange him for all the fath
ers in the world.’
lloder. [With uplifted hands.] It is as if I saw
and heard him.
Sacristan. ‘I thank him for all the integrity which
I possess and all the zeal which I have in your service.
Since my tenderest childhood I have received his
commendation, and for my valour and virtue I am in
debted to him.’ So I spake, father, and the tears ran
down my cheeks, that I had the opportunity of prais
ing you in the presence of the King. [Roder weeps
also.] The King was moved by my filial love towards
you. He took the glass which stood by him, and
drank your health aloud before all present at the table,
and it occurred to me that I should mention it to you
and assure you of his favor.’
Roder. [Springing up.] Oh is it possible, Mr.
Sacristan ? The King—
Sacristan. Yes, as you hear it. lie has had the
goodness to drink your health.
Roder. | Runs wHi joy out of the cottage and
calls aloud.] Mother! mother ! Let every thing stand
up and lie down, and come here \
Rachel. [Answers without.] What, father?
Roder. Como here quick, I say, and let me tell
you ! Come here quick !
SCENE. VIII.
RODER, RACHEL, SACRISTAN.
Roder. [Embraces her:] Dear old sweetheart!
what sort of a Son have you given me !
Rachel. [Places the breakfast upon the table and
goes immediately up the Sacristan, j M hat is it about
my child ? I tremble already all over with joy. Is it
peace?
Roder. Peace, mother! (Removes his arms quick
ly, first or.e and then the other.) Why, our son lias
eat with the King, and the King has asked about our
village and after me ; and lie then told the King, that
l was a most loyal subject, and said to him that he
would not exchange me for every father in the world.
O, I weep for joy ! And then the King has publicly
drank my health, and has thereby assured me of bis
favor. (Rachel slaps her bands together once.) Yes,
dear mother! and now we will again drink our King’s
health. Fill up! again! You take that, dear wife!
And you take this, dear Mr. Sacristan ! and I will
take this! so! And now let us strike together! (He
pulls off his cap.) Long live the King !
Sacristan. Long live the King !
Rachel. Long live the King!
Sacristan. (Smacks his lips after drinking.) That
taste more-ish, my sakes !
Roder. But look here, Mr. Sacristan! You must
also write a letter to my son, and tell him again that 1
reverence iny King, and that I thank him and assure
him of my love towards him. Don’t forget it now !
Sacristan. Why, father ? We should’nt send such
a message!
Roder. Why not ? Why should'nt 1 send it ? The
King Mr. Sacristan is a man as well as we, and it must
therefore rejoice him, I think, to know that he is be
loved by men!
Rachel. But how, father ? Is it peace ?
Roder. To be sure ! lie has written so himself!
Rachel. (With pleasure and tenderness, while
she places her hand upon Roder’sarm and looks him in
the face.) So ho will indeed eotne back, dear father ?
Will he indeed come to see us ? and shall we behold
him again ?,
Roder. Patience, mother ! We will hear it all.
Rachel. Oh, that lie may return before Margaret’s
wedding! That would indeed double our joy.
Roder. Patience! patience! Mr. Saeristan be so
good as to read again. But first I must drink my son’s
health; and you mother, here’s a glass for you. (Gives
her a glass and touches it with his.) He was as the
apple of your eye from his cradle, and long may lie
live!
Rachel. (Blushes.) I thank you, father.
Sacristan. (Touches his glass also.) And shall
flourish and bloom, ‘like the green bay tree.’
Rachel. I thank you, Mr. Sacristan.
Roder. (Places his glass back.) It makes my heart
happy when I drink my son’s health ! May God's bless
ing rest upon him! Oh !he has given a good testimo
ny of me to our King; and I, dear Heaven! (appears
quite happy,) I give the my son as a witness ; he lias
acted gratefully towards me. He has not been ashamed
of my obscurity and poverty. lie has brought joy to
himself in honoring his grey headed father. It is not
in my power to reward him, but in thine only.
Rachel. O read it again, Mr. Sacristan. Perhaps—
Sacristan. (Huntsfor the place where he had left
off, while he seats himself with Roder, and Rachel, ail
attention, steps behind the table.) ‘To take me to his
talie’—where was I ? ‘Your health, and it occurred to
me’ —Yes here it is! ‘and it occurred to me that
I should let you know it, and assure you of his favor.
I could not contain myself any longer; for my whole
heart was moved. I sprang up. I threw myself at
the feet of the King. Your majesty said I, for all the
manifest favor which you have shown me.’
SCENE IX.
RODER, RACHEL, SACRISTAN, MARGARET.
Margaret. (Sobbing and crying.) Oh help, father!
help, father ! The recruiting Officer.
Roder. llow ? what ?
Margaret. (As before.) The recruiting officer, |
father—
Rachel, (Huns anxious to Margaret.) So he
conies after you, does he ? What have you been do
ing l
Margaret. As I went to see Michael, father—
Sacristan. Now we have it! Surely she doats
upon Michael!
Rachel. Oh Heavens! what a calamity !
Ruder. “\\ hat, by force ! Now, wh ie it is peace !
That is not right.
Sacristan. In peace ! while we are at peace ! Is
it ever peace if the King’s land, at any moment! Can
we ever say we are safe in each other’s love! God
have pity upon us !
Roder, (Angrily.) Ila ! be silent, Mr. Sacristan.
Let the King alone ! it always cuts me to the heart!
Wc force daily o teers into the yoke; and do you
not think truly, tfY would be in vain with our steers
and our ploYgh, if* wv ourselves did not work l A man
like you, and make use of such a speech !
Margaret. Do go now, father ! Do go seek him ;
for you can easily help him ! Do be his good father,
as you arc mine! for I know certainly that the Seargent
will have respect euough for you. All men respect
you.
Roder. Foolish thing ! As if all men lived in our
village !
SCENE X.
K VTE, RODER, RACHEL, MARGARET.
Kate. 1 can do nothing. lam almost dead with
grief.
Rachel. Ah, 1 pity you good mother ! Oh that
our son was now here, that he might help us!
Roder. Hush! It only grieves me, that 1 should
be thus disturbed in my best devotion! It would not
have been so bad had they told you of it before. He
surely will not tako away your only son from thu
plough. That would be anew way. I will go thith
er and talk with hint.
Margaret. And Moo, father. I will go with you.
1 will weep and entreat him so long, that he will be
compelled to release him. (Exeunt Itodcr and Mar
garet.)
SCENE XL
RACHEL, KATE, SACRISTAN.
Sacristan. (To Kate.) So lovely a widow to be
so distressed ! To take the last morsel of bread from
your mouth !
Kate. O Mr. Sacristan ! lam so frightened that I
tremble from head to foot!
Sacristan. (Giving her a stool.) Sit down ! sit
down mother! We must not despair in trouble. W e
should always hope for the best.
Kate Already have they taken away from me two ;
of my sons, and my eyes have never since beheld j
them. Ah ! 1 will never see this one again.
Sacristan. (With consoling tone of voice.) Have
patience mother Kate! So good aChristian as you, must
know in whom to trust.
Rachel. (Who hitherto regards this scene with
much impatience.) Heavens ! Iherc is a disturbance
in tlie village. Oh, that the old man lias not been un
fortunate! If lie only could control Ins passion . Go
now after him, dear Mr. Sacristan.
Sacristan II J ‘
Rachel. You are-Wf” Ru standing, Mr. Sacris
tan, a clergyman. ®'! that
Sacristan. Y'cs, So much the worse for
rile ! Such, fellows, an- most agreeable to
wards the clergy when away from them ; if they could
they would hang inc. No! no! mother! I am not
such a fool! Stick my nose in the bush, you say, when
lam undisturbed here ! In the Devil’s name ! God
forgive me the word ! and besides mother, 1 am so
cholerick —that would be a sad misfortune. No !no .
1 must have been drinking.
Rachel. Are you our friend, Mr. Sacristan, and
will you not help us ?
Sacristan. Hut consider reason, mother! Only
think what my position is! If 1 can give you any con
solation, l will do it cheerfully : but help you is out of
my power. Help yourself!
[to BE CONCLUDED.]
American Self-Government. —Mr.Stansbury, for
many years a reporter in the House of Representatives
for the National Intelligencer, and now the draughts
man of the General Land Office, lias been writing a
very interesting series of papers for Arthur’s Home
Gazette, entitled “ Recollections and Anecdotes of the
Presidents of the United States.” He writes with
equal force and eloquence, and draws with the facility
of a Cruikshank. In a late number of the Recollec
tions lie gives a very graphic and stirring account of the
House of Representatives on the eventful and exciting
occasion of the election by that body of a President of the
United States. After describing the intense and ab
sorbing interest evinced by every human being in
Washington, and the successful opposition of Mr. Mc-
Duffie to an attempt to exclude the people from wit
nessing the acts of their representatives —that gentle
man pledging himself for their orderly deportment
while luoking on such a spectacle—the wrier thus pro
ceeds :
At length the Speaker’s hammer fell. A dead si
lence instantly prevailed, and the respective delegation
assembled and took their seats around the tables prepar
ed for them.
It was my privilege, from an elevated position on the
right hand of the chair, to enjoy a full view of all the
groups; and lhave preserved a rude and hasty sketch
which 1 caught pf their positions while the first ballot
was proceeding. Each delegation appointed one of their
number to act as chairman, collect their votes, and re
port the result. The delegates voted by pluralities.
Whoever in each received the most votes was reported
as the choice of that delegation. There were twenty
four of these groups; and when the votes had been
gathered in each, they were called upon to report,
which they did in succession, viva voce , commencing
with Maine. The silence was like that of a sepulchre.
Men’s breath was suspended as State after State uttered
its voice ; and oh, can I ever forget tire moment when
the Speaker, standing up in his place declared, in a
clear, sonorous voice that seemed to pierce through
hone and marrow, that “ John Q. Adams, having re
ceived a majority of the votes cast, was duly elected
President of the U. States for four years from the 4th
of March next ensuing ?”
Then rose such a shout from the galleries as seemed
to lift the very dome of the hall. Mr. McDuffie, (whose
candidate had been defeated, and whose personal
pledge for the good order of the assembly was remem
bered by all) sprang up in much excitement from the
floor, and, in a voice that rung above all the tumultuous
plaudits of the spectators, cried, “Mr. Speaker, I move
the gallery be cleared.” The question was put and
carried. “ Yes,’’ said a foreign minister to another
who stood by his side ; but how are you going to do it?’’ j
—a natural question for a European, ignorant of the
country and of the people. Here were no -guards—
no gendarmes —not even a constable : how was the
order to be enforced ?
lie soorfsaw, and, while he gazed, seemed penetra
ted with speechless wonder. No sooner had the Speak
er given the order, “ The Sergeant-at- Arms will clear
the galleries,” than an active, slender young man, of
graceful form, and with a brilliant black eye, started
from his place, and mounting (I did not see how, to
the broad stone cornice which runs all round the hall, in
front and below the breastwork of the galleries, mo
tioned with his arm to the dark, dense, and almost suf
focated inass of human beings before him, exclaiming,
“ Gentlemen, the Speaker orders the galleries to be
cleared ; you must retire ; clear the galleries.” And
at this word, like a flock of quiet sheep, when the gate
of their pen is thrown open, out went the entire crowd,
without a word of complaint or remonstrance, and in
an incredibly short time not a soul was left behind. The
foreign minister lifted up his hands in amazement, and
exclaimed, “ Wliat a government ! What a people !”
The Master and Slave;—YVe have re
cently been told an incident that occurred a
few weeks since, in the town ol- State ol
SI,OOO for a friend, who died, and he was called
upon for the money.— Having no other means,
he was compelled to dispose of a negro slave
—a favorite young man—worth that sum. He
told tAidjor of liis necessity; whereupon the
faithful boy advised his master to put him up at
a raffle-100 chances, at $lO each; and Cudjor
took a subscription list around those to whom he
preferred to be sold, go as to secure himsclfan
acceptable master. A gentleman purchased
a chance and presented it to Cudjor; and when
the raffle came off, Cudjor threw the highest,
and, of course, won himself. But ho said he
did not want to be free, if he was sure of a good
master; and forthwith proposed to raffle off
himself again, if the same subscribers would
take chances Sixty only agreed; but Cudjor
said he was not u'orth more than S6OO. and that
he would stand at that price. He pocketed the
s6oo,ofcourse. His old master took achance,
and had the good luck to win him back; at
which Cudjor was exceedingly pleased, brag
ging that himself and his master had made 81,
000 by “tho easiest work he ever did.’’ His
master told him he was free; but he said. “I
don’t want to be freer than l am, and will stay
with you.” An abolitionist could not persuade
him to leave his master. NY bat a commentary
is this anecdote—which we are satislied is true ;
upon tho conduct of the pseudo philanthropists
who seek to make the slave hate his master.
Chloroform, according to statements recent
ly laid before the French Academy of Science,
is found to be an antiseptic of marvellous vir
tue, preventing animal decomposition alter
death, or promptly checking it il already com
menced. But its use and value, it would ap
pear, do not stop here. The french Govern
ment having offered a prize of 4,000 francs for
tho discovery of a substitute for Quinine in
the treatment of fevers. Prof. Delioux, of
Rochefort, recommends chloroform as a pow.
erful succedancum. Periodic fevers are com
mon at Rochefort, and he treated numerous
cases in the hospital there with such regularity
of success that he feels warranted in recommen
ding it as a substitute for Quinine. 11c gave
it in doses ol from S to flu grains, according
to the severity ol svnptoms. mixed with syrup
and water. It was administered before the
access ot lever,and its use continued tor several
days.— Balt. Amer.
A Fact Business Men must Learn. —
You may get a sign as long as your store,
and it may be emblazoned with the most reck
less disregard of expense; you may swing out
a hoot literally big enough to contain Goody
Two Shoes and progeny, or a tin hat which
shall appear as large to us as did Gulliver’s
to the Lilliputians, you may flourish monstrous
shirts, and horse collars in proportion; you may
pile up mountains of “late arrivals,” and bid
defiance to the nuisance act, by crowding the
side walk w ith home made boxes marked horn
“London,” and from Paris; you may string
together all the hats and umbrellas, and hang
them to the breeze from the topmost story; you
may do all this, and not succeed in business.
You may go further, you may hire the sleekest
faced, most lackadaisical “loves of boys about
town, and furnish them with pomatum and
perfumes exclusive of salary; you may post
the most ingenious dummies in your doorway,
and line their whalebone ribs with the choicest
production of Cashmere—-over the lelt; you
may do even more, and rival London trades
men, by hiring a hall dozen well dressd loafers
to decoy’ purchasers, by looking attentively
through the show window', or buying goods in
the presence of customers and paying you in
your own money twice what they are worth;
you may do all this, and whatsoever else your
heart can conceive, and yet not be successful.
We do not say that devices of that sort may not
enhance your business, but w T e do say that if
the money lavished in such ways were ex
pended injudicious advertising in the newspa
pers, you w r ould arrived at general notoriety in
the city and country; 1 , which is all that you
want; by a much shorter and more certain
route. —Merchants’ Ledger.
A Slave Case. —On Friday morning, a
slave answering to the name ot Matilda, be
longing to the estate ol a decedent in Louis
iana, named Swain, was brought before Judge
Kelly, in the Court of Quarter Sessions, upon
a corpus, at the instance of a committee of (he
Abolition Society. It appeared that the slave
Mat ilda came to Philadelphia, with her mistress,
Mrs. Augustine Swain, the widow of decedent,
a short time since. This fact was admitted
by the representative of the owner. Judge
Kelly therefore notified the slave that under
the law of Pennsylvania she was iree, and
could go where she pleased, or could make
such an arrangement with her former mistress
as to the conditions upon which she would ren
er her further service as they jointly could agree
upon. The parties acquiesced in this decision.
A brother of the mistress informed the court
that they had been taking measures to liberate
the slave. — Pennsylvania-
Good Men Departed.— The Charleston
(Va.) Spirit of Jefferson records the decease
of John Yates and Bushrod C. Washington,
Esqrs. Mr. Yates died oil the 9th of July, in
the county of Cumberland,''England, whither
he had gone to visit the ho£je of his fathers.
He was aged about seventy-five years: was
born in England, through he emigrated to this
country some fifty odd years ago. Mr. Wash
ington died on Sunday last, in the sixty-first j
year of his age. These gentlemen have long
been regarded as the wealthiest of Jefferson
county; enterprising, humane and benevolent.
If you do not mind the consequences, they
will be very apt to remind you.
Every fool can find faults that a great many
wise men can’t reltiedy.
He that finds a thing, steals it if he endeav
ors not to restore it.
Mr. Conscience is tho only one whose good
opiniou is worth striving for.
He that blows the dust, fills his own eye.
Every body’s business is nobody’s business,
From the Sacannah Republican.
The Right of Scccsslou.
It is not our purpose now to examine the doctrine of
the Right of Secession. This we have already .tout iu
our paper of the 3d ultimo. Our object is to endeavor
to relieve our opponents, of much of the unnecessary
labor they have imposed upon themselves, to prove and
establish the existence of a right which nobody denies.
True, our opponents assert tbat Mr. Cobb and the
Constitulonal Union par:v deny the right of secession,
and they call us Federalists, ConsolicUtionists, Subrnis
sionrsis, &<*. They are trying to make the people be
lieve all they say, to get the power into their hands for
the gratification of their ambitiou to establish their
grand scheme of a “Southern Confederacy.” The
disuiiionists have ransacked the records of the past,
and reproduced letters, speeches, and resolutions, and
through tlieir presses and their orators, have discours
ed upon them learnedly and lengthily, to establish the
doctrine that the people have not divested themselves
of an inalienable right—namely, the right to resist op
pression, iu the best wy and by the best means in tlieir
power. Among other documents produced are a set
of resolutions said to ha ve been drafted by John Ran
dolph, of Virginia. They have not, however, once
quoted from, or referred to Gen. Juekson's proclama
tion of 1832. Oli no!
The second of Randolph’s resolutions, upon which
great stress is laid, is ns follows :
“• Resolved , That Virginia has never parted with the
right to recall the authority to delegated, for good
and sufficient cause, nor with the right to judge the
sufficiency of such cause , and to SECEDE from the
confederacy whenever we shall find the benefit ex
ceeded by its evils —union being the means of securing
happiness, and not an end, to which it should be sacri
ficed. ’’
It will be seen that this resolution affirms that, for
good and sufficient cause, a State, herself being the
judge, has the right to recall her delegated author
and has the right to secede when she finds that tqito
benefits are exceeded by the evils of General Govern
ment so as to make it oppressive. We think that the
Disunionists need not have gone so far back into the
records of the past to have established this proposition.
The people of Georgia and the Constitutional Union
party have established this doctrine for themselves.
And if the fire-eaters of Georgia have really “ioieed’’
in good faith to the Georgia platform, and are standing
upon it, they certainly have no cause forgo much clam
or, nor need they labor so hard to establish a proposition
already settied.
The fourth resolution of the Georgia convention
of December, 1860, reads as follows :
“Fourthly, That the State of Georgia, in the judg
ment, of this convention, will and ought to resist, even
(as a last resort) to a disruption of every tie which binds
her to this Union, any action of Congress, upon the
subject of slavery in the District of Columbia, or iu
places subject to the jurisdiction of Congress, incompat
ible with the safety, the domestic tranquility. the rights
and the honor of the slaveholding States, or any act
suppressing the slave trade between slaveholding Slates,
or any refusal to admit as a State any territory hereaf
ter applying, because of the existence of slavery there
in ; or any act prohibiting the introduction of slaves
into ihe terrirories of Utah and New Mexico ; or any
act repealing or materially modifying the laws now in
force for the recovery of fugitive slaves.”
Thus it will he seen, that our own people have for
themselves settied the question of secession. They
have not only asserted the right, but they have gone
farther than any record our opponents have produced,
for they have actually assigned the causes w hich shall
justify the exercise of the right—whether such exercise
of it shall be peaceable or revolutionary. Surely,
then, if we understand the spirit, intelligence and patri
ism of our own people, tlieir ow n resolution is of more
binding force and effect upon them, than the dicta of
any man, or any set of men, of former lime. Further
than this—we have another authority, nearer at home
than that of John Randolph. It is the declaration of
Howell Cobb himself. Hear what he avs to this
|>oint, in his letter of acceptance:
“ Should, however, the time ever arrive when the
conditions of her remaining in the confederacy are deg
radation and inequality , I shall be prepared wiili her
“to resist, with all the means which a favoring Provi
dence may place at her disposal,” even “(as a last re
sort,') to a disruption of every tie which binds her to the
Union,” any and every power which seeks to put upon
her such debasing terms. Nor am ! particular by what
name this resistance may be characterized—whether
secession, revolution, or any thing else —for no one can
for a moment doubt, tbat should this fearful collision
come, the issue will bo decided only by the arbitrament
of the sword. Where constitutions end, revolutions be
gin.”
Upon the principle therefore, that the greater con
tains the less, we think that the Resolution of the Geor
gia Convention and the declaration of the Hon. Howell
Cobb have asserted in all its length and breadth, the
right of secession, for cause, and have set forth the
causes which shall justify the exercise of that right;
and if Mr. Cobb has endorsed this affirmation—and we
have shown that lie has—the question occurs, why
are McDonald and his party so clamorous about estab
lishing a right from the records of dead men, which lias
in the most solemn manner been asserted by the living
people for themselves ? The answer to this question
will enable the people fully to understand the true issue
between the parties, and the motives of the Triumvi
rate, Uliett, McDonald and Quitman, aud their cohorts.
The Georgia Convention declared that the late Com
promise measures of Congress furnish no cause for se
cession or resistance. That whilst she dues not wholly
approve of the Compromise, Georgia “will abide by it
as a permanent adjustment of this sectional controver
sy.” Upon this declaration the disunionists take issue
with the people. They affirm (see McDonald’s letter of
acceptance) that tho “‘Compromise was a most flagrant
violation of our rights,—a fraud upon an injured peo
pie,” and in his letter to James Cantrell—in the very
face of the declaration of the Convention that Georgia
would abide by it as a final adjustment, —Judge Mc-
Donald with the greatest coolness and contempt for the
will of the people thus expressed, says “that he (and
his party of course) know of no adjustment by Con
gress of the slavery and territorial questions.” “ The
measures so called, ” says he, “ contain not a single
element of an adjustment ” —thus most emphatically
giving the lie to the people. Ilis presses too, take upon
themselves to denounce the action of the Convention
as a ridiculous farce, a discredit and a cowardly
submission to disgrace and degradation. Hence
they say that the Compromise measures of Gongrtss
furnish good and sufficient cause for immediate resis
tance by secession. Here then is really the issue be
fore the people. Not the abstract right of secession, for
that is settled as we have shown but shall we resist or
acquiesce in the Compromise measures ? That is the
question. The people are for acquiescence—the disun
ionists are for resistance. Their mode of resistance is
by secession, peacfable secession, and yet they call
Peaceable Secession resistance. This is the plot laid
by a triumvirate to [ireak up the government of the
United States. The secessionists in Georgia and Car
olina agree that there is good and sufficient cause for
resistance ; they agree as to the mode of resistance,
aud they are pre-determined, if they get the power ,
to enter upon the untried experiment of secession and a *
• Southern Confederacy as the only means- o’ M
security fiom their imaginary rongsand d:-.-’ :
is a legitimate conclusion, that they would not I
clamorous about a riylit if they do not feel a j
necessity to exercise it. TLe panics in both StatcsH
determined to exercise the right for past causes.
There ae two parties iu South Carolina.
the immediate secession of the Suit-, as they fear ■
cannot get the co-operation of other S.at -s —
particularly. That party is for separate State
as they are certain that it will force Georg a
difficulty. The other party is for delay—for a
ation. They say, wait till McDonald is elected.
event will tell a tale.’ If McDonald is elected, H
shall get the co-operation of Georgia without <JoH
and without she dishonor of forcing her to !u !;j :
Cobb is, however, elected, we cannot calculate up
co-operation of the State—and then it will bcii’
secede ourselves and thus force her to help us. 1"H
wait, however, *ay they, until “the tale is told.'”
secession party of Georgia is composed of rnen of
sorts of Carolina secessionists— un:nr.-. lute : • . s
and co-opcrationists. They herd together in
and sympathise with both parties in Oaroliua,
aiming at the same thing—a disruption of the Unß|
and a s ‘Southern Con'ederation.'’ They say that ■
Georgia platform does not represent the will of tha nH
jority of the people of Georgia. That the people wfl
panic stricken and that was the reason w hy they
submission men whose action was so disgraceful
unworthy. They hold out to the people of
that tlie people of Georgia have not ratified the
of die base and submissive Convention of 1850. ThMa
say tliat the question of %t ratification’’ or ‘* no
tion” is involved in the coming elections, tlie resultH
which will overwhelm the base submissionist to d:BB
grace and degradation, “with a torrent of
—and hence under such assurances a move has
been made in Charleston by co-operationists to “wateM
and wait” until the election of McDonald has told t.ifl
tale.
We think we have established then, from th? forego®
ing facts, the following points :
Ist. That the doctrine of secession has been asserteß
and established by the. people for themselves, to be exfl
ercised for good and sufficient causes, which causes the®
have stated.
2nd. That the Compromise measures furnish nfl
good and sufficient cause for secession.
3J. That the right of secession having been establish-fl
ed, is not in issue before the people.
4th. That the true issue is, “ Shall the people otß
Georgia acquiesce in, or resist, the Compromise meas-B
urea”?
sth. That the Union party are for acquiescence upon
the terms of the Georgia Resolutions.
6th. That the Dieunionists consider the Comprom.se
as containing no element of adjustment, a* a discredit
and a ridiculous farce, and hence they do not stand
upon the Georgia platform.
7th. That of consequence, they are for resistance by
secession, and in co-operation with Carolina, peaceably j
if McDonald is elected—at all events, whether lie is
elected or not.
8;h. That Carolina is now waiting to hear the tala ;
that our elections will tell—w hether the people will rat
ify, or not, the action of the convention of ISSO, so that
she may act singly, or in co-operation with Georgia. |
And—
9th. That the end and ahnofbolh parties in Carolina, \
and the Disunionists in Georgia, are to subvert this
glorious government, and build upon its ruins a “South
ern Confederacy,” to gratify the ambition of tlie tri
umvirate, Rhett, McDonald and Quitman.
Let tlie Secessionists now say no more about the
right of secession—but prove, if they can, that the gov
ernment is oppressive and tyrannical, and that there is
good and sufficient cause for its overthrow. To tba
law and to the testimony, gentlemen.
Sentiments
Offered at the Anti-Secession Ceix-
BHATION AT GREENVILLE, S. C., July 4TH,
1951.
By P. 1.. Duncan—The Right of Seces
sion : A revolutionary, not a constitutional
right—one suited only to Southern Rights
Associations of the South, and the higher law
parly of the North. Well may the Syracuse
Convention applaud South Carolina for her pa
triotism.
By Capt. Geo. C. Cunningham, of Dam
burg, S. C.—Ex-Gov. J. 11. Hammond: Ado
voted patriot and able statesman. May South
Carolina have an eye to the pearls that she has
cast to the swine.
By Col. T. P. Brockman—Let the people
of South Carolina have light, and their patri
otism and good sense will cause them to es
chew the folly and madness of seperate State
secession.
By N.C. Tuell —May abolitionism take its
flight, and find not where to rest its foot, till
it lands in the bottom of Mount Vesuvius, and
may seperate State secession accompany it.
By Capt. J. W. Brooks—The Mississippi
and its Tiibutary Maters: An insuperable
barier against a dissolution of the Union.
By Perry E Hawkins—The Rights of the
South and the Union of the States: Alike in
violable and inseparable.
By C. J. Elford—The Farm, the Work
shop and the Factory: Tripod on which rests
our national happiness and independence.
By L. S. Cunningham— The secessionist
who would seek the protection of England,
and bend the knee to royalty', merits the scorn
and contempt ofeierv true republican.
By B. F. Perry—T ‘he State, the South and
L nion: Our political trinity, indivisible and
inseparable, one and the same—our country
—•and all attempts at disconnection sacrile
gious.
By \\ ii,lis Benson, Esq.—Northern Ag
: gressioaaud Seperate Secession: Two wrongs
never makes one right.
By Barnett Stratham —Hon. Robert
Barnweit Rhett: The profound statesmanship
displayed in his plan of carrying out Free
Trade without ships, and his cheap, novel, and
highly honorable scheme of raising a revenue
from commerce with the States, entitle him to
the gratitude of all future financiers. He
should at once be placed in charge of the
Treasury Department ot some equally novel
and experimental Republic..
By a Guest—Political Proscription and Per
secution: The tools with which designing
demagogues lbrge the fetters of tyranny.
We hear their clanking on the plains of Caro
lina.
By Facan E. Martin—The people of
Greenville District: The Macedonian Phalanx
—brave, generous and patriotic—the first
to hurl back the fiery ball of Secession to the
low country Parishes where it originated.
By A. B. Walurii* —South Carolina, with
two war steamers, never can beat the stars and
stripes into rags.
By Davis Hunt— The revival of Brigade
Encampments, and the appropriation of mon
ey by the Legislature to purchase munitions of
war: Two of the most barefaced impositions
that were ever put on the shoulders of a free
and enlightened people.
NO. 1