Muscogee democrat, and Mercantile advertiser. (Columbus, Ga.) 1844-1849, July 15, 1847, Image 1

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The Muscogee Democrat, * AND MERCANTILE ADVERTISER. By Andrews & Griswold. Corner of Randolph and Broad streets, ( up-stairs,') COLUMIHJS.Ga. TERMS. THREE DOLLARS per annum —in advance. Two copies for $5, “ *• •• Ten copies for S2O •• “ < Two dollars for six mouths. “ O* All Letters must be free of postage, except where money is enclosed. Tol. 111. 3|toMstalL DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATE FOR GOVERNOR, lion. G. W. Towns, PREAMBLE AND RESOLUTIONS : Whereas, it is expedient, from time to time, to- set forth anew the principles upon which our political faith is based, and the measures for the promotion of which our party organization is maintained, to the end that the great landmarks may be kept ever in view, and remembered amid the changing and excit ing topics of the day; aad whereas, the present time presents new features of the political scene, and brings forward new questions on which we are called to de cide and act; and whereas, we are firmly convinced that the welfare of the country and the ultimate pres ervation of the Union itself, depend in no slight de gree upon the w isdom arid moderation which may at this juncture pervade the counsels of the democratic party, and upon the harmony which may be preserved among the different sections. And whereas, we, representing the democracy of Georgia, are as much as ever persuaded of the truth and importance of those vital principles for which we have so long contended, believing them the only rules by which our Govern ment can be so administered as to secure and perpet uate the enjoyment of liberty and equality by the peo ple at large—and believing, moreover, that these prin ciples can be best carried out by the united and har monious party action of the democrats of the whole country. And whereas, in a country like ours, of vast extent and various and conflicting interests and sectional attachments and prejudices, union can only be preserved by mutual concessions and a spirit of compromises:— Be it therefore Resolved, 1. That a strict construc ts nos the Constitution, an equal distribution of ben efits and burthens by the general government, a Rev enue Tariff, opposition to a system of Internal Im provements, to a National Bank, and to any ffiodiflca tion of the veto power, arc leading and cardinal prin ciples of the democratic party, and to which they will strictly adhere. 2. That the democratic party, while it asserts the right of citizens of any state to settle in any of the territories of the United States with their property, yet in the spirit of mutual “concession” in which our Union originated and by which alone it can be pre served, we are stiil willing to abide by the provisions and the geographical line of the Missouri Compro mise. 3. That we adopt the four following resolutions, as passed by the General Assembly of Virginia, as amended. 4. That the Government of the United States has no control directly or indirectly, mediately or imme diately, over the institution of Slavery, and that in taking any such control it transcends the limits of its legitimate functions by destroying the internal organ ization of the sovereignties which formed it. 5. That under no circumstances will this body recognize as binding any enactment of the Federal Government, which lias for its object tbe prohibition of slavery in any territory to be acquired either by conquest or treaty, “ south of the line of the Missouri compromise,” holding it to be the natural and inde pendent right of each citizen of each and every state of the confederacy, to reside with his property of w hatever description in any territory which may be acquired bv the arms of the United States or yielded by treaty with any foreign power. t>. That this Assembly holds it to be the duty of every man in every section of this confederacy, if the Union is dear to him, to oppose the passage of any law for whatever purpose, by which territory to be acquired may be subject to such a restriction. 7. That the passage of the VVilmot Proviso by the House of Representatives of the United States, makes it the duty of every slaveholding state, and the citi zens thereof, as they value their dearest privileges, their sovereignty, their independence and their rights of property —to take firm, united, and concerted ac tion in this emergency. 8. That the Democratic party of Georgia will give their support to no candidate lor the Presidency of the United States who does not unconditionally, clearly and unequivocally declare his opposition to the Prin ciples and Provisions of the VVilmot Proviso. 9th. That the usage of the democratic party, in meeting in Convention for the purpose of nominating a candidate for the Presidency of the United States meets with the approbation, and receives the sanction of this Convention. 10th. That the present war with Mexico is just and necessary, forced upon us by the aggressions of Mexico herself, and calling for support and encour agement from all patriots of whatever party. 11th. That the thanks of the whole country are due to the gallant officers and men of our Army, Navy and Volunteer serv'cefor the glory with which they have covered our arms, and the heroic valor with which they have sustained their country's cause on the battle-field. 11th. That in the Administration of James K. Polk we recognize a wisdom and a devotion to the true principles of the Constitution which call forth our ad miration for the man, and demand of us a steady and zealous support of the measures of his administration. Whig candidate far Governor : HON. DUNCAN L. CLINCH. PREAMBLE AND RESOLUTIONS. The committee believing it necessary to reiterate the often declared princif'.es of the Whig party, which have been so faithfully carried out, and so tri umphantly vindicated in the administration of the Go vernnent, recommend to the Convention the adoption of the following Resolutions : 1. Resolved, That his Excellency, Gov. Crawford is entitled to the ardent and unqualified admiration of the people of Georgia, for the skill and ability with which he has administered the government of the State—bringing order out of confusion--developing State resources, and resuscitating State credit. 2. That bis successful administration is a faithful illustration of the practical benefits resulting from Whig priuciples, and we confidently anticipate from the lion. Duncan L. Clinch, a continuance of these benign influences. 3. That yielding to our admiration and gratitude for the distinguished services of the great Captain of the age—Gen. Zachary Taylor—with whose charac ter are inseparably associated the modesty of merit, the coolness of bravery, and the devotedness of patri otism, and being assured of his identity with us in principle, we cheerfully respond to the general and spontaneous acclamation of the American people, in now recommending him as the next President of the United States. 4. That the thanks of the people of this State and of the United States are eminently due to the officers and soldiers of our army in Mexico, both regulars and volunteers, for their gallant conduct and lofty bearing during the existing war. 5. That the Hon. John C. Calhoun is entitled to the thanks of the people of Georgia for his independ ent and patriotic course in the Senate of the United States, in reference to our recently disturbed foreign relations. 6. That we are opposed to the Wilmot Proviso, so called—and that all legislation by Congress restrict-1 MUSCOGEE DEMOCRAT, , AND MERCANTILE ADVERTISER. • +* ** ; .3c u LITTLE GOVERNMENT A3 POSSIBLE ; THAT LITTLE EMANATING FROM AND CONTROLLED BV THE PEOPLE, AND UNIFORM IN ITS APPLICATION TO ALL.” ing the right to hold slave property in the territories of tiie United States, is unequal, unjust and unconsti tional. 7. That a committee of seven be appointed for the purpose of communicating to the Hon. Duncan L Clinch his nomination as the candidate of the Whig party for Governor, and that they publish his reply. ®- That an Executive committee of one from each judicial district be appointed for the purpose of acting for the party in any emergency, and generally pro moting the cause, between the adjournment of the Convention and the election. On motion of Mr. Sanford of Greene, the report and resolutions were unanimously adopted. SPEECH OF Hon. Ben Hardin, of Kentucky. Mr. Chairman : I have a few more remarks to make, and then, for the present I shall say no more. I have been a whig, according to the common acceptation of the term, and still firmly believe in the great principle that the labor of America must be protected from the pauper labor of starving Europe. 1 have served the whig party for eighteen years. I lack only two years to make the number Jacob served Laban. I have fought the whig battles everywhere—in the Sen ate of this State, in Congress, and all over this State, as you all know. Wherever the whig drum tapped, to fall into ranks, I was there. In 1 calling the roll, when my name was called, I answered, here am I, ready to do your bidding, as far as a gentleman can do. If the <*vhigs said, ride over the State and speak to the people, that they may hear our principles discussed, be come converts, and he of our party, I did so ; and never hesitated one moment. I have not found fault, as some whigs have done, with the administration for the present war. In the management of that war, much praise, I think, is due the administration. The question was fairly put to the American people in the Presidential election, between Mr. Polk and Mr. Clay, whether Texas should be annexed or not? I was, in that election, as all Kentucky know, for Mr. Clay, and against annexation. I said, in all my speeches on that occasion every time 1 addressed the people, if we annexed Tex as to the United States, ice annexed Texas with the limits and boundaries as the Texan Con gress claimed—that is, to the Rio Grande; and that it amounted to a pledge of national faith to contend for it as Texas claimed to hold. The people ot the United States elected Mr. Polk, ihat election was decisive of the question. Congress knew what the public will was, and in obedience to that—upon the true principles of a Republic, that the will of tH© people should govern—passed the act annexing Texas. What was Mr. Polk bound to do? He knew the will of the people and Congress. He was bound to obey their will. How could that be done ? In no other way than to take possession of the country. That possession could only be taken by a military force, and he was bound to use the necessary force. These opinions I expressed last summer was a year ago, when I told the only son I had left alive, if he wanted to see war and know it, and for war to know him, now was the time to join the army. That Mr. Polk was obliged to send our army to the Rio Grande, and then the Mexicans would fight or cease to be a nation. My son commenced his preparations in August, 1845; left in September of that year, and there he lias been ever since. We are not to forget, Mr. Chairman, that a Republic never has a large army in times of peace. It is a Government of the people’s own choice, and a large army is not required to com pel obedience to the laws. All other Govern, ments are Governments of the few, controlling and oppressing the many. Such Governments require a large army in times of peace. The regular army of Russia amounts to about one million of men ; Austria, four hundred thousand; Prussia, two hundred and fitly thousand, France, four hundred thousand, and Great Britain, at least two hundred and fifty thousand. When these Governments choose to go to war, they are ready in a moment. A Republic, such as the United States, when she goes to war, as we did in the late war with Great Britain, our army has to be made and cre ated after the war commences. But when ano ther nation goes to war with us, as Mexico did, we can make no preparation until the commence ment of the war. The very form of our Govern ment forbids, The first gun that was fired—the first blood that was shed in this war, was war itself. That was the act of Mexico. There was no alternative left for the Administration but to fight, and create an army at the same lime. Last May the war commenced near the mouth of the Rio Grande—three thousand miles from the seat of our Government. This is now the 13th of January—about eight months. What has the administration done since then up to this time ? The acts of the administration challenge our praise. They display vigor, activity and energy in the execution of the plans of the Gov. eminent, which plans are formed with judgment and good sense. I mean common sense, as contra-distinguished from learned book sense. To prove the truth of what I have said, let us take a brief and rapid survey of the operations of the war, and what has been achieved. We have sent part of our army into Upper Califor nia, a distance by land, of four thousand miles; another part went by water a distance of 17,000 miles. We have, conquered and now got pos session of that country—a country that will measure at least 450,000 square miles. Another part of our army has been sent through a desert wilderness one thousand miles. That part has conquered new Mexico. We now possess it. We have conquered all the disputed country east of the Rio Grando ; not less than one hundred and fifty thousand square miles. The extent of our conquest on the west side of the Rio Grande, from all the information I can obtain, cannot be less than two hundred thousand square miles. One half of the whole of Mexico is conquered, and now possessed by the troops of the United States. Three desperate battles have been fought, and splendid victories achieved. One of them has no parallel in the annals of either an cient or modern history. All this has been done, and an army created within the short space of COLUMBIjS, Georgia, Thursday Evening, July 15, 1547. e:ght months. There is no blame since the Presidential election. All has been done since then in obedience to public will—and well done. I am not for refusing either men or money to the administration; but I will, with my feeble voice, encourage them to prosecute the war with all our power, until we conquer peace in the city of Mexicd itself; for there it must be conquered. The American character must not sutler now in the eyes of the world, by withdrawing to the east side of the Rio Grande, and adopting a defensive war. The inarch of our armies must be onward, or the moral power given to our troops by the three great victories gained, will be lost. The opposition to the war says it will cost us blood and treasure. Be it so. When we are insulted and attacked, are we not to tight ? Shall we permit the honor of the United States to be tarnished, because it may cost us blood and mon ey to prevent it? I answer, no. What is fifty millions compared with the renown we have won ? Nothing. Blood has been shed I know. Our officers and men have been prodigal of their lives; but we have, and their relations have, the melan choly consolation to know that they died in a blaze of fire upon the fields of their glory. What did the last war with Great Britain cost the United States? Heavy expenses and disburse ments were made during the war. Our funded public debt increased from about thirty-nine mil lions to one hundred and twenty-three millions, I besides a floating debt, not funded, of near fifty millions. It may be asked, what did we gain equal to the money expended, and blood shed ? I answer, we gained a grdat deal. We told our people we would not be insulted. We told the same to the nations of this earth. We as sured our own people that they could fight well and courageously, upon the ocean and the land. The same great tale was told the crowned heads of Europe And, above all things, we informed the world that we could fight through a bloody and tremendous war with the most powerful na tion on the earth, and when it was over, return to a peace establishment again, which gave the lie to the predictions of the Kings of Europe. What has Kentucky gained by this war ? She has added honors to her great reputation, hereto fore won in many a bloody field, where heroes fought and contended—man to man—as we had i i to do in our desperate conflict with the Indians, j Kentucky is a noble State—filmed for valor, without boosting—famed for Courage, without rashness or temerity. Her sons are always ready for the fight, and rush to the Hold of battle —where they never falter in the hour of danger ; but can look death iu the face without turning pale. Major Barbour, who bravely dared and nobly died at Monterey, was a Kentuckian; so is McClung ; so is Butler ; so is Taylor. The reputation of Kentucky for orators in Congress and heroes in battle, is known to the world. Her glory is seen by the people of this whole earth— bright shining as the sun. Kentucky’s renown and glory have no night. I am not one of those, when my friend or na tion is fighting, to coolly look on, and then stop to enquire who is in the right, when the battle is raging and blood is pouring out at every pore. No, Sir, 1 will see the war over first, and then perhaps I may enquire. I will never quench the fiery courage of my friends or my nation, by saying you or we are wrong in this a flair. No; I will sl|out and hurrah for him or them, and to nerve the arm that is doing battle, declare that; he or we are in the right, and even if the oath is I not warranted by the fact, as Sterne said with Uncle Tolily u'hen he swore, the accusing Angel ; will shed a tear on the Book, and blot it out for ever. PIERItE I‘JTOIS; OR, MOT 11 E R AND SO N. A TOUCHING SKETCH. In the year 1809, Pierre Pitois was sergeant of the 12th regiment of the line, then quartered in Stratsburg. lie was a native of that half sav age, half civilized part of Burgundy, known un der the name of Morvan ; and his comrades nev er spoke of him but as a tough customer. Al ways the first and the last to fire, he had the re putation of liking two tilings in the world—the smell of powder and the whistling of bullets. Now, one fine day, our friend Pierre took it into his head to address a letter to his Colonel, in which he asked leave to go and see bis aged mother, who was dangerously ill. He added that his father, being seventy.eight years of age, and suffering under a paralytic affection, could not be of any use in nurse tending the poor wo- j man, and he pledged himself to return as soon ! as the health of his mother should be restored, i The Colonel’s reply to Pierre’s application was, that as the regiment might at any moment j be ordered to take the field, no leave of absence could be obtained. Pierre Pitois submitted. A fortnight elapsed ; a second letter was received by the Colonel, in which Pierre informed him that his mother had died without the consolation of giving her last blessing to her only child, and in which ho again solicited leave of absence, saying thal ‘he could not state his reasons for this request—it was a family secret,’ —but earnestly imploring bis Col onel not to deny him this favor. Pierre’s second letter was as little successful as the first. The poor fellow’s captain merely said, —‘Pierre, the Colonel lias received your letter; he is sorry for the death of your old mo ther, but he cannot grant the leave of absence you require, as the regiment leaves Stratsburg to-morrow.’ ‘ Ah! The regiment leaves Stratsburg; and for what place, may I ask you ? ’ said Pitois. ‘For Austria,’replied his officer. ‘We are to see Vienna, my brave Pitois : we are to fight the Austrians. Is not that good news for you ? You will be in your clement, my fine fellow ! ’ Pierre Pitois made no reply; he seemed lost in deep thought. The Captain caught his hand and shaking it heartily said— * Why do you not speak, man'? Are you deaf to-day ? I am telling you that in less than a you are to have the pleasure of a set to With the Austrians, and you have not a word of thanks for the good news ! Nay, I believe you hiave not even heard me.’ ‘ Indeed, Captain, I have heard every word, ahd I thank you with all my heart for your news, which I consider very good news.’ *■ f though* you would,’ said big officer. ‘But, Captain, is there no chance to obtain the leave of absence ?’ * Ary. you mad?’was the reply. ‘ Leave of absence the very day before taking the field ! ’ ‘ I nqver thought of that,’ said Pierre. ‘We are thei on the point of taJD.Sg the field; and at such a time, I suppose, it is never given ? ’ ‘ It is never even asked.’ ‘lt is duite right—it is never even asked. It would have the appearance of cowardice. A Veil, then, I wBl not press it any more ; I will try and get on without it.’ ‘ And you will do well,’ replied the captain. The next day, the twelfth regiment entered Germany, and the next, Pierre Pitois deserted. Thiee months after when the twelfth regi ment, having reaped in the field of battle an abundant harvest of glory, was making its tri umphal entry into Stratsburg, Pierre Pitois was ignominiously dragged back to bis corps by a brigade of gens d’armes. A court martial was instantly called. Pierre Pitois is accused of hat - ing deserted at the very moment when his regi : inent was about to meet the enemy face to face. The court presented a curious spectacle. On one side stood forth the accuser, who cried, — ‘ Pierre Pitois, you, one of the bravest men in the army, you on whose breast the star of honor glitters, you, who have never incurred either punishment or censure from your officers, you could not have quitted your regiment—quitted it almost on the eve of battle—without some pow erful motive to impel you! This motive the court demauds of you, for it would gladly have it in its power—if not to acquit, you, which it ought j not perhaps either to or to desire—at least to re commend you to the Emperor’s mercy. On the other side stood the accused, who an swered,‘l have deserted without any reason, without any motive, Ido not repent: if it were to do again, I would do it again—l deserve death —pass sentence.’ And then came some witnesses who deposed. ‘ Pic i •re Pitois is a deserter, we know it is a fact, but we do not believo it.’ And others averred, ‘Pierre PitoiU is mad ; the court cannot condemn a madman. He must be sentenced then, not to death, but the Lunatic Asylum.’ This last alternative was very nearly adopted, for there was not any one in the court who did not consider the desertion of Pierre Pitois as one ol those singular occurrences beyond the range of human possibilities, which, while every one is forced to admit as a fact, no one can account for, or comprehend. The accused, however, plead ed guilty most positively, and was most pertina cious in his demand for the just penalty of the law to be inflicted upon him. He so boldly and fearlessly avowed the crime, continually repeat ing that he did not regret it, that at length his firmness assumed the character of bravado, and left no room for clemency. Sentence of death was therefore pronounced. Pierre Pitois heard his sentence read with the most steady unflinching gaze. They warmly urged him to plead for mercy, but he refused. As every one guessed that at the bottom of this affair there was some strange, mystery, it was de termined that the execution of Pierre should be delayed. He was carried hack to the military prison, and it was announced to him that, as a mark of special favor, he had three days given him to press for pardon. lie shrugged his shoulders and made no reply. In the middle of that night on which was to dawn the day fixed for his execution, the door of j Pierre’s dungeon turned softly on its hinges, and a subaltern officer advanced to the side of the camp bed on which the condemned was tran quilly sleeping, and, after gazing on him some time in silence, awoke him. Pierre opeued his eyes, staring about him, and said—‘The hour, then, is at last come ! ’ ‘ No, Pierre,’ replied the officer; ‘ it is not yet the hour, but it will soon come.’ ‘And what do you want with me until then'?’ ‘ Dost thou not know me, Pierre ?—No matter; I know thee well. I saw thee at Austerlitz, and j bravely did’st thou bear thyself. From that day, Pierre, 1 have had for thee a regard no less warm than sincere. Yesterday on my arrival at Stratsburg, I learned thy crime and thy con- I demnation. I have prevailed on the goaler, who j is a relation of mine, to allow me to scle thee ; and now that 1 have come, I would say to thee, Pierre, it is often a sad thought to a man about to die, that he has no friend near him to whom he,might open his heart, and intrust with some ! sacred commission to discharge when he should i lie no more. If thou w ilt accept me, I would be : to thee that friend.’ ‘ I thank you, comrade,’ replied Pierre, briefly \ and coldly. * Why, hast thou nothing to say to me ? ’ ‘Nothing.’ ‘What, not one word of adieu to thy sweet heart—to thy sister ? ’ ‘A sweetheart!—a sister! I never had either.’ ‘ To thy father ? ’ ‘Heis no more. Two months ago he died in : my arms.’ ‘ Thy mother, then ? ’ ‘ My mother ’ —and Pierre, whose voice sud denly and totally changed, repeated,—‘my mo ther I —Ah, comrade, do not utter that name, for see, how I have never heard that name—l have j never said it in my heart, without feeling melted i like a child ; and even now', methinks, if I were i to speak of her— ’ ‘ What then ? ’ ‘ The tears would come—and tears do not be come a man Tears! ’ continued he, ‘ tears when I have but a few hours to live—ah! there would not be much courage in that! ’ ‘ Thou art too stern, comrade. I think I have, thank God, as much courage as other people and yet I should nut be ashamed of weeping, if 1 were to speak of my mother.’ ‘ Arc you serious ? said Pierre, eagerly seizing the officer’s hand, * you a man and a soldier, and not ashamed to weep ? ’ 4 When speaking of my mother? Certainly not. My mother is so good, so kind ; she loves me so much, and I, too, love her dearly.* ‘She loves you and you love Jier? —ph ! then £ may, indeed, tell you 14. ‘ full • it j must have vent, and, however strange my feel ings may appear to you, I am sure you will not laugh at them. Listen, then, for what you said just now is quite true. A man is glad, when about to die, to have a heart to which he can pour out his own. Will you really listen to me, and not laugh at me ? ’ ‘Surely I will listen, Pierre—a dying man must ever excite compassionate sympathy.’ “You must know that, since I came into the world I never loved but one being—that being was my mother. But her I loved as none love —with all that was in me of live and energy. While yet a babe, I used to read her eyes, as she read mine; I guessed her thoughts, and she knew mine. She was the heart of my heart, i and I the heart of hers. I have never had either j sweetheart or wife ; I never had a friend, my j mother being every thing to me. Well, 1 was summoned to take arms, and when they told me 1 must leave her, in a paroxysm of despair I de clared that they might drag me limb from limb, but never should they take me from her alive. With one word spoken in her holy fortitude and strong courage, she changed my whole purpose. ‘ Pierre,’ said she, ‘you must go—it is my wish.’ I knelt before her, and I said, ‘ I will go, mother.’ ‘ Pierre,’ she added, ‘ thou hast been a good son, and I thank God for it; but the duties of a son are not the only ones a man has to fulfil. Eve ry citizen owes himself to his country ; it calls thee—obey! Thou art going to be a soldier; i from this moment thy life is no longer thine own I —it is thy country’s. If its interests demand it, I lay it down cheerfully. If it be the will of God : that thou shouldest die before me, I should weep i for thee my heart’s tears, but I would say, ‘ He ! gave, and He has taken away, blessed be the I name of the Lord ! ’ Go now, and if thou lovest j thy mother, do thy duty.’ Oh, how precious i those holy words ! I have never forgotten them- J ‘ Do thy duty,’ she had said : now, the duty of a ; soldier was always and in all things to obey ; and in all things, and always, 1 obeyed. It was to go straight forward, to face danger without hesi tation, without ts ncooerd thought.; J wont siraight forward, faced danger without hesitation, j without a second thought. Those who saw me i thus, as it were, seek to meet the bullets, said, j ‘ There is a brave fellow ! ’ They might have | better said, ‘There is a man who loves his mo- 1 ther! ’ “ One day a letter brought me the tidings that she was ill—my own dear mother; I longed to go to her. I asked for leave of absence ;it was not granted. I remembered her last words :‘ If thou lovest thy mother, do thy duty.’ I submit, ted. A little after, I heard that she was dead. Oh ! then my senses forsook me ; at any risk I determined to return to the country. Whence proceeded so ardent, so impetuous a desire to see the place where my mother had just died ? I w ill tell you ; and as you have a mother as she loves you and as you love her, you will under stand me. . . . “ We peasants of Morvan are a simple and confiding race; we have not received the in struction, nor attained the knowledge, that they have in the cities, hut we have our beliefs, which the townsfolk call our superstitions. What mat ters the name ? Be they superstitions or beliefs we have them, and clever would beman that could uproot them. Now one of these beliefs to which we cling the most is that which attributes to the first flower that blooms in the grave mould such a virtue that he who gathers it is certain of never forgetting the dead or never being forgot ten by them. Belief, how dear 1 how sweet! Wiith it death has no terrors ; for death without forgetting or being forgotten is but a sweet sleep but calm repose after long toil. That flower— I panted to see it bud ; I panted to gather it; 1 abandoned my post and went on my way. Afler ten days of a long and weary march 1 reached my mother’s giave. The earth seemed yet fresh; no flower had appeared. I waited. Six weeks elapsed and then one lovely moring I saw a little blue flower— 1 Forget-me-not.’ As 1 plucked it, I shed glad tears, for me thought that little flower was my mother’s soul; that she had felt that I was near, and under the form of that flower had given herself to my heart once more. “There was nothing more to detain me in the country, for my tiither had soon followed my mo ther to the grave ; but I had plucked my precious flower, what more did 1 want ? I remembered tny mother’s charge—do thy duty ! I sought out the gens tVarmcs, and I said, ‘ I am a deserter, arrest me!’.... And now I am to die, and if, as i you have assured me, 1 have in you a friend, 1 , die without regret, for you will do lor me the j only service 1 require. The flower which at 1 the risk of my life I plucked from the grave is : here in a little case next to my heart. Promise me that you will see that they do not take it from me. It is the link that binds me to my mother, and if I thought it would he broken, oh! 1 should not have courage to die Say, do you promise to do what 1 ask of you'! ” ‘ 1 promise,’ said the officer. ‘ Your hand, that I may press it to my heart; you are very kind to me; and if the Almighty God were in his omnipotence to give me life a second time, 1 would devote it to you,’ The friends parted. The next day dawned. They had arrived at the place of execution ; and already had the fatal. sentence been read, when the low murmurs which ran through the ranks, suddenly changed into a most deafening shout. ‘The Emperor ! t Long live the Emperor! ’ He appeared, dismounted from his horse, then i with his short, quick step he walked up to the j [condemned. ‘Pierre,’said he to him. Pierre j gazed at him and. made an effort to speak, but a : sudden stupor seemed to overwhelm him. —*j ‘Pierre,’ continued the Emperor, ‘remember your own words of last night. God gives thee | life a second time—devote it not to me but to Book & Job Printing Office, , y Andrews A 6riaM t cornvT of fyimldlph and Broad streets, (upstairs.) W.--1 Wand HUNTING, suefc as Bill floods, Post Bills, Handbills, Circhlar. Cords. Pamphlets, Checks, Bills of JoiJing, Bills / Eachang*, Minutes, and Blanks of cccnj description, tr,#r liSr.r-- a suylr vi .trt, m raiiou* ctTc-rt Inks, or in gold, silver sad Bronze, J -P at the very lowest rales. XI 1 jancc. She, too, is a kind and good mother! Love her as thou did’sf love thy first—thine own.’ He then turned to depart, and greeting shou*> of admiring love followed him till he was out of sight. Some years after this a captain of the Old Guards fell mortally wounded on the field o? Waterloo. Amid the 3in of baitle he was h*4rti to struct in his death pangs— ‘ Long live the Emperor! Franco forever! My mother ! My mother! ’ It was Pierre Pitois 1 Fifteen days later from Europe. Decline in Brcadstuffs —Advance in Cotton. The Cunard steamer Caledonia , arrived at Boston on the 4th inst. bringing dates from Liv erpool to the 19th ult. American Flour was selling 38 to 40s. per barrel ; the last steamer quoted it at 42 to 435. Indian meal was 23 to 245. per barrel ; Indian corn at 47 to 525. per quarter, the last steamer left it at 625. Cotton —New Orleans ordinary to middling, was sjd. to 6£d ; good to fair, 6|d. The market firm. The armed intervention of the British Gov ernment in the affairs of Portugal, had excited warm debates in the British House of Commons and the French chamber of Deputies. The Ten Hours’ Factory Bill received the royal assent, by commission, on the Bth inst. The British Parliament was expected to ad journ on the 10th of July. The lords of the treasury have ordered Man dioca flour and foreign hulled barley to be ad rnitted without paying duty until the Ist of Sep. tember next. All attempts to reconcile the differences be tween the Queen of Spain and her husband, had j failed. The Grain crops throughout every part of Europe, are most encouraging. A German pa per states that the potato rot has appeared near Heidelberg, and that the potatoes affected by the disease become decomposed sooner than was the case last year. * The French Government has ordered that scientific men in all the departments shall ex amine microcscopieaffy, every fortnight, the growing potatoes in the several districts, with a view to discover if the plant he again tainted, and the cause of the disease, if it should again appear. The free importation of all sorts of Grain into France has been extended to the 31st of Janu ary, 1948. A large commercial house in Marseilles has failed, owing to a tall in the price of grain. A’- so two stockjobbers have been apprehended for j endeavoring to bribe the man at the Telegraph i to obtain more speedily the quotations of the ’ public funds at Paris. Measures have been taken in Edinburgh to erect a statute of the late Dr. Chalmers. 1 he Spanish papers state that alarming corn ri .ts occurred on the 27th ult. at Aviles, in the Asturias. The mob threw stones at the sol j diers, who fired and wounded nine of the riot | ers, whose object was to prevent the exportation j of some corn. A premium of £IOOO has been offered by the Royal College of Chemistry, for a discovery by means of which iron, when applied to the ordi nary purposes, may be rendered as little liable to rust as copper. The King of Belgium is reported to be in a very precarious state of health; which with the advanced age of the King of the French, creates considerable uneasiness in European political and monetary circles. Several recent deaths of distinguished indi viduals are announced in the London papers : Lieut. Gen. Sir Colin Campbell, Mr. Charles Sheridan, and Carter the Lion King. Marshal Grouchy, who commanded the French corps d’armee at the battle of Waterloo, died o i Saturday the 12th ult, at St. Etienne, in the 82d yi ar of his age. The Neapolitan Ambassador to the Papal court has been recalled, at the desire of the Pope, whose measures of reform he had openly disapproved. In Ireland, apart from the contradictory re ports respecting the potatoc crops, the anticipa tions of an abundant harvest are cheering. Fe ver is still awfully rife and malignant, hut the general downward tendency of provisions and the ample stores now pouring into the country, with the fine weather, will, it is hoped, prove effectual means to check the progress of this destructive epidemic. Emigration proceeds ve ry extensively ; during the last two months one hundred and twenty thousand persons left the shores of these kingdoms, chiefly Irish, and re marks the Belfast Northern Whig, “ the extent of the exodus seems only to be limited by the means of getting away.” Murders and outrages are unhappily multipli ed, until they are regarded as indigenous to Irish society. More recruits have enlisted at Skibbereen, Cork, where distress has been extremely great, during the past eight months, than during twenty years previous. John and Morgan O’Connell have succeeded their late father in the leadership of the Concil iation Hull Repealers. Dr. U'Higgius, catho lic Bishop of Ardagh, has, in a letter to the As social ion, developed and avowed what was well known to have previously existed, a system for converting every priest into a collector of rent, and the chapels or chapel-yards as receiving houses; on the other hand, Archbishop Murray strongly denounces such a prostitution of the sacred office and sanctuary of God. The Irish Confederation consider themselves No. 28.