American Democrat. (Macon, Ga.) 1843-1844, February 21, 1844, Image 1
AMimXOAXV DBMOOB4T.
ilie most perfect Government womu lie ilial which, emanating directly from the People, Governs least —Posts ieast —Dispenses Justice to all. and confers Privileges on None. —BENTUA M.
VOL. U DIL WM. GREEN—EDITOR
An UK
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IVI SC2X.VIN J3UJ.
Tiie Old Xecromaiccrs.
We lately spent an evening very agree
ably lounging orer a volume, which
seems to have made little impression at
the time of its appearance, and is now
forgotten—“ Lives of the Necromancers,”
by William Godwin. The design of
the author is to exhibit a fair debited ti
of the credulity of the human mind—an
object of vast compass—for, till our own
presumedly enlightened times, by what
a mass of vulgar credulity arc the gene
rality of mankind governed—and, we
may add, though that is not to our pres
ent purpose, what an amount of error
consists in vulgar incredulity, disbelief
of demonstrable truths being as mischie
vous as a ready belief in all kinds of ab
surdities. Godwin speaks cmphuticuliy.
He does not spare the imposters of a past
age; yet he allows that some may have
themselves been deceived, and, by dint
of overstrained ambition and wonder, be
come the victims of their own arts. It is
also to be recollected, that till only re
cent times there was nothing determined
in physical science. Everyeclipse threw
the nations into a panic: thunder indict
ed supernatural terror. We can easily
fancy how pleasant it would he in these
times to he supposed capable of control
ling the elements.
Let us take a glance at a few of the
heroes noticed by our author. We pass
over the great men of antiquity, such ns
the magi, the Grecian priests, Pythago
ras, Virgil, Polydorus, Dido, and the rest
of that early set. It is also of no use go
ing into his account of the Arabian and
llmdostanee sages, all dexterous in their
way. Our interest becomes distinctly
loused when Michael Scott, Albert (is
Magnus, and Roger Bacon make their
appearance about the thirteenth century
of our era. Os this order of presumed
necromancers, Roger Racou occupies a
prominent station. Godwin speaks of
him as one of the rarest geniuses that
has existed on earth. “ Roger Bacon
was a Franciscan friar. lie wrote gram
mars of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew
languages. He - was profound in tbesci
enoo of optics. He explained the nature
of burning-glasses, and of glasses which
magnify and diminish, the microscope
and the telescope. He discovered the
composition of gunpowder. Ho ascer
tained the true length of the solar year ;
and his theory was afterwards brought
into general use, hut upon a narrow
scale, by Poj>e Gregory Xil., nearly
throe hundred years after liis death.
But for all these dLeoveries, he under
went a series of the most hitter persecu
tions. It was imputed to him by the su
periors of his order, that the improve
ments he suggested in natural philoso
phy were the effects of magic, and were
suggested to him through an intercourse
with infernal spirits. They forbade him
to communicate any of his speculations.
They wasted his frame with vigorous
fasting, often restricting him to a diet of
bread and water, and prohibited all stran
gers to have access t>> him. Yet lie went
on indefatigably in pursuit of the secrets
of nature. At length Clement IV., to
whom he appealed, procured him a con
siderable degree of lilierty. But, after tin
death of that pontiff, be was again put
ut.der confinement, and continued in that
state for a further period of ten years.—
He was liberated but a short time before
his death.
Freind says, that, among other ingeni
ous contrivances, lie put statues in mo
tion, and drew articulate sounds frprn u
brazen head, not, however, by magic, but
DEMOCRATIC BANNER FREE TRADE; LOW DUTIES; WO DEBT; SEPARATION FROM BANKS; ECONOMY; RETRENCHItGENTj
AND A STRICT ADHERENCE TO THE CONSTITUTION. —J C C.i ttOtf.Y.
by an artificial application of the. princi
ples of natural philosophy. This proba
bly furnished a foundation for the tale of
Friar Bacon and Friar Bungy, which
was one of the earliest productions to
which the art of printing was applied in
England. Tlrefe two persons are said
to have entertained the preyed of enclo
sing her with a wall, so as to render it in
accessible to any invader. They accor
dingly raised the devil, as the person best
able to inform them how this was to be
done. The devil advised them to make
a brazen head, with all the internal struc
ture and organs of a human head. The
construction would cost them much time;
and they must then wait with patience
till the facility of speech descended upon
it. It would finally, however, become
an oracle, and if the question were pro
pounded to it, would teach the solution
of their problem. The friars spent seven
years in bringing the structure to perfec
tion, and then waited day after day, in
expectation that it would utter articulate
sounds. At length nature became ex
hausted in them, and they lay down to
sleep, having first given it strictly in
charge to a servant of theirs, clownish in
nature, but of strict fidelity, that he
shouid awaken them the moment tire,im
age began to speak. That period arri
ved. The head uttered sounds, hut such
as the clown judged uiiwor hy of notice.
‘Time is P it said. No notice was ti
ken, and a long pause ensiled. ‘Ti me
was !’ A similar pause, and no notice.
‘Time is passed!’ And the moment
these word, were uttered, a tremendous
storm ensued, with thunder and light
ning, and the head was shivered into a
thousand pieces. Tints the experiment
of Friar Bacon and Bungy came to no
thing.” How Silly do such conceits now
appear!
Advancing to a more modern era, the
historian of the necromancers comes to
Martin Luther ; not that the reformer, as
our author observes, had anything to do
with necromancy, “but that there are
passages in his writings in which talks
of the devil in what we should now think
a very extraordinary way.” Luther tells
us quite frankly that he had many inter
views with the enemy of mankind in
person, always for the purpose of cjisctis
sion, in which he—that is, the gentleman
in black—showed an amazing power of
argument, pleasant yet peremptory, not
easily shirked. “ For my part (adds Lu
ther,) I am thoroughly acquainted with
him, and have eaten a bushel of salt with
him.” What should we think of any
man who talked in this way in the pres
ent day ?
I)r. Faustus was a prodigous magician
of the age to which we refer. He lived
at the end of the fifteenth century, at
Wittenberg, in Germany, and both from
similarity of name and country, he has
been confounded with Faust of Mayence,
one of the establishes of the art of print
ing. Fanstus the necromancer was,
however, altogether a different personage
from the Faust of Mayence, and lived a
quarter of a century later. Some have
denied that there ever was such a person
as Dr. Faustus; but their denial is op
posed by the undoubted testimony of
Wierus, Philip Camerarius, Melancthon,
and others, his contemporaries, all of
whom believed that he was a real per
former in the arts supernatural. Goethe,
it will be recollected, has written a dra
ma of which he is the hero.
'Phe life of Fausttis affords ft fair sam
ple of traslt which our ancestors implicit
ly swallowed. Born the sou of a peas
ant of Weimar, he was adopted by an
unde at Wittenberg, and sent by him to
college, where he studied closely, took
his degree as a doctor of medicine, and
aspired to celebrity as a practitioner of
physic. So far his history is probable :
now commences what is clearly a fabri
cation. Becoming iinpiessed with a de
sire to study magic, he prosecuted the
arts of a sorcerer, in which lie wa3 at
length so accomplished, ns to lie able to
summon to his presence the spiritual en
emy of mankind, and with whom he en
tered into a compact, according to the
ordinary terms of such an engagement.
Under the assumed name of Mephestoph
oles—or iNephostopholes, signifying a
lover of clouds—the fiend was to attend
him at all times, when required, for all
the days of his life ; that he should bring
him everthing lie wanted: was to come
to him in any shape that Fanstus requi
red, or lie invisible, and Fanstus was to
be invisible too, whenever he desired.—
'Phe conditions on the other side were,
that Faustus should abjure his religion,
and become the entire property of his at
tendant demon at the end of twenty-four
years. All things being settled, Mephes
iopltoles, at Ids command, supplied all
bis wants, brought him money, luxuries,
and nil conveniences that he desired.—
Wishing to travel, Mephcstopholes con
verted himself into an invisible liorse,
which carried him on his back through
the air to nearly all the countries of Eu
rope, including Turkey, where he impo
sed himself on the sultan ns a vision of
Mahomet. Having gratified his curiosi
ty and vanity in this and various other
ways, he was seized with a done to
visit the home regions of his attendant,
which, however, he was in the meantime
cheated of seeing, and he was compelled
MACON, WEDNESD Y, FEBRUARY 21, 1844.
j to remain satisfied with the upper world
I and its pleasures.
1 Ilis fame as a magician being now ve
ry great, Faustus was invited to the court
of Charles V., where he astonished his
majesty of Spain with many surprising
tricks ; for one thing, called tip a repre
sentation of Alexander the Grent and his
queen, vastly to the delight of the empe- j
ror and his attendants. Many of Faus
tns’s delusions remind 11s of the did fa-1
miliar superstitntion of throwing glam
our in the eyes of spectators—that is, pro
ducing optical illusions. In these in
stances, the doctor seems to have been
guided by a spirit of tim more than of
mischief. “In one instance (to quote
from Godwin) he inquired of a country
man who was driving a load of hay,
what compensation he would judge rea
sonable for the doctor’s eating as much
of the hay ns he should lie inclined to;
the wagoner replied, that for half a stiver
(one farthing) he should be welcome to
eat as much as he pleased. The doctor
fell to, and ate at such a rate, that the
peasant was frightened lest the whole
load should he consumed. He therefore
offered Faustus a gold coin, value twen
ty-seven shillings, to he oft his bargain.
The doctor took it, and when the coun
tryman came to liis journey’s end he [
found his cargo undiminished by even a i
single blade. In another instance, Fan- I
tus went into a fair mounted on a noble j
beast, richly caprisoned, the sight of;
which presently brought nil the horse* j
fanciers about him. After considerable j
haggling, he at last disposed of his horse j
to it dealer for a handsome price, only j
cautioning him at parting how he rode I
the horse to water. The dealer, despi- |
sing the caution that had been given
him, turned his horse the first thing to
wards the river. He had, hewever, no
sooner plunged in than the horse vanish
ed, and the rider found himself seated 011 |
a saddle of straw in the middle of the;
stream. With difficulty fief waded to
the shore, and immediately inquiring out
the doctor’s inn went to him to complain
of the cheat, lie was directed to Fans-i
tus’s room, and entering, found the con- j
juror in his bed, apparently asleep. He
called to him lustily, but the doctor took ;
no notice. Worked up beyond his pati- j
ence, he next laid hold of Faustus’s foot, I
that lie might rouse him the more effec- [
tually. What was his surprise to find
the doctor’s leg and foot come off in his
hand ! Faustus screamed, apparently in j
agony of pain, and the dealer ran out of 1
(lie room as fast as lie could.”
With the performance of such marvels
Faustus spent his time, till the expiry of
the prescribed term of twenty-four years,
when his career was closeJ in a manner
too horrible for ns to' riiention. Os
course, ns we have indicated, there is not
one word of truth in the whole story,
which is only the fabrication of an im
perfectly instructed age, though possibly
founded on a few facts drawn from the
life of a more than usually skilful man
of science.
To Paracelsus, a clever but morally
depraved physician, who was a contem
porary of Faustus, was likewise ascribed
supernatural powers; and so also was
Jerome Cardan, one of the first scholars
of his time, included in the same dark
catalogue, although his illusions do not
appear to have gone beyond the flights
of a liiglilyenthusiastic fancy. By means
of a magic lantern and a few tricks, now
well understood, Benvenuto Cellini was
also able to impose himself on his ac
quaintance as a conjuror. Nostradamus,
a native of Provence, Doctor Dee, and
William Lilly, follow iu the list, but can
not be called impostors in cool blood ;
like men of heated franeies in the present
day, they were probably the victims ol
their own delusions, and prophesied from
- the stars with the sure convictions of a
(disordered imagination. Among a siini
, larly well meaning, hut equally self-de
; reived class of enthusiasts, is tohe ranked
Jerome Savonarola, a Dominican frfar,
who settled in Florence about the year
1586, and afterwards surprised the Italian
states by the exceeding boldness with
; which he advocated certain reforms in
the church. Alexander VI., the most
1 profligate of popes, then fiHed the chair
at Rome, and Savonarola thundered
against him the most tearful denuncia
tions. Alexander, who was not a man
to be trilled with, did not hesitate a mo
ment to proceed to extremities. Savona
rola and his alhlierelits were denounced
as heretics, and then punishment loudly
called for from the civil power. Not the
j least disconcerted, Savonarola rose in
character, assumed the (rower of prophe
sying and of working miracles, and went
the length of accepting a challenge to
undergo the ordeal of lire as a proot of
the truth of his cause. According to
Dumas, Florence now hadall the appear
ance of a great madhouse; every one
wished for the pile; nil desired to enter
into the flames. A public trial by fire
was at length accorded to the chief ad
herents of the church on the one part,
and of Savonarola on the other. A storm
of wind and rain fortunately stopped the
insane proceedings on this occasion, anil
left a breathing lime to the contending
parties. Savonarola wits finally tried hy
torture before a tribunal of Ins enemies.
“The result (to use the language of Du-
mas) was, that, feeble in body, of a nerv
, 011s irritable constitution, Savonarola bad
; been unable to endure the torture of the
: cord, and overcome by pain (at the tno
-1 ment when hoisted up by the wrists, the
executioner had suddenly let him lull
within two feet of the ground), had con
fessed, in the hope of some mitigation,
j that his prophecies were but simple eofj
jectures. It is true that on re-entering
! his prison, he had protested against this
confession, asserting that his physical
weakness, and his inability to endure
torture, had wrung it from him ; but that
the truth was, the Lord had oftentimes
appeared to him in his trances, and had
inspired what he had foretold. '1 his led
to a repetition of the torture, during
which Savonarola again yielded, and ad
mitted what he had retracted. But hard
ly unbound, with every limb yet quiver
ing beneath the rack, he declared that
his confession was the work ol his mr
mentors, and would recoil upon their
heads; hut that* for himself, he again
protested against all past and future ad
missions on his part. For a third time
torture wrung from him the same con
fession, and repose brought its retraction; ;
so that a last his judges, after having
condemned him and his disciples to the j
| flames, decided that his confession should I
I not be read publicly at the pile, being
| assured that if it were, then even, as be
fore, he wonld deny it aloud ; a 1 irenm :
I stance which might I*, considering the
i fickleness of public opinion, productive
of the very worst results. On the 23d of
I May, the funeral pile, so long promised,
; was reconstructed before the palace; and
I now the multitude re-assembled, confi-,
| dent they would not lie this time depriv
ed of a spectacle for which they hud so
long yearned. Accordingly, towards
eleven o’clock, Jerome Savonaro'a, Do
menico Bonvicini,- and Selvestre Maruffi,
were brought to the place Os execution ;
and being first degraded from their rank
by’ the ecclesiastical judges, were hound
in the centre of an immense pile of wood j
all three to the same stake. 'Then the
Bishop Pagnauoli declared to the con -j
denmed that he separated them for ever
from the church. ‘From tho militant,’
replied Savonarola, who from that hour,
owing to liis martyrdom, entered into the
glories of the church triumphant. This
was all the victims utter and ; for at that
moment an A militate, a person al enemy
of Savonarola, breaking through the line
formed by the guards, around tiie scaffold
snatched a torch from the bauds of the
executioner, and set fire to the four cor
ners of the pile. When the smoke arose ,
Savonarola and his disciples began to ,
sing a psaim ; and -till, when wrapped j
in the devouring flames, the solemn
strain was heard, which ascended to open
for their souls an entrance through the
gates of heaven.”
Godwin, in closing his lives of the
necromancers, thinks that it cannot be
amiss now and then to look back on such
deplorable cases of h.finhn frailty. Per
haps so. We learn from them what 1
hideous errors the world has been led in- |
to by ignorance and superstition ; and,
comparing the present with the past, we
may well be thankful for the share of
knowledge which now falls to the lot of
those who are disposed to seek it.
Nap<>!con*s Heart.'
When Bonaparte died at St. Helena,
it is well known that his heart was ex
tracted, with the design of being preser
ved. The British physician who had
charge of that wondrous organ, had de
posited it in a silver basin, among water,
and retired to rest, leaving two tapers
burning beside it in his chamber, lie
often confessed to his friends that he felt
nervously anxious, as the custodier of
such a deposite ; and though he reclined
he did not sleep. While lying thus
awake, he heard, during the silence of
the. night, firet a rustling noise, then a
plunge among the water in the basin,
and then the sound of an object falling
with a rebound on the fbror, all occur
ring with the quickness of thought.—
Dr. A sprang from his hed, and the
cause of the intrusion on his repose was
soon explained—it was an enormous rat
dragging the heart of Bonaparte to its
hole. A few moments more, and that
which before bad been too vast in its am
bition to Ire satisfied with the sovereign
ty of continental Europe, would have
lieen (omul even in a more degrading
position than the dust of Gaesar stopping
a beer-barrel —it would have been de
voured as the supper of a rat !
“Will you come to the bowerV' as the
boatswain said to the crew, at the hea
ving of tire anchor.
“Let ns dropthe subject,” as tbetxi
dy-snutchcrs said when they were pur
sued.
Money Lenders. —He serves you in
the present tense, he lends you in the
conditional mood, keeps you in the sub
jective, and ruins yon in the future.
A wag, speaking of the embarkation
| of troops, said that notwithstanding 111a
| ny of them leave blooming wives be
l hind, they go nwav iu transports.
AN ADDRESS.
1 Directed to he published hy a meeting
of the Driehds+of JOHN <\ f’Al.-
HOl’.X, Delegates to the State
Democratic Conreutbu,
irith the signatures
of the Committee who pre
pared it, and such of the mem
bers as after its final preparation
could he seen.
TO THE DEMOCRATIC REPUB
LICAN PARTY OF VIRGINIA.
It is known to you that of late certain
differences of opinion have existed among
the members of the Democratic Repub
lican Party, which haveseriofisly threat
ened to mar the harmony and endanger
the union of the party in the approach
ing Presidential canvass. In the delibe
rations and proceedings of die Democra
tic Convention of the State, held in Feb
ruary, 1843, there differences were neith
er obscurely nor doubtingly indicated
and declared; and since they have
grpwn daily more distinct and more
threatening to the welfare and success of
the Party. These differences so far as
they originated from or depended upon
preferences for particular candidates,
however elevated and justly entitled to
tfic cordial admiration and support of
any portion of the Party, are susceptible
of ready accommodation in compliance
with tile magnanimous spirit of>acrifice,
to the good of nil, which lias ever actuat
ed alike the leaders and members of our
truly popular Party; but to the extent
to which they involve and are l,ns«d up
on important principles of truth and jus
tice, they can neither be overlooked nor
■ discaftk and consistently with the solemn
\ obligations of honor and patriotism. ~
Witletllnt portion of the Democratic Pnr
! ty, of whom we are proud to be, who
! have exhibited a just appreciation of the
lofty virtues and pre eminent intellectual
1 endowments of the distinguished States
-1 man of the South, JOHN (\ CALHOUN
| hy awarding to him their first preference
; among the candidates of the Party, all
r mffleultics on the score of personal pre
dilections merely, and all possible imput
ations on the sincerity and purposes ol
their declarations of principle, have flren
1 fully removed by the dignified and eleva
ted position which he has lately assumed
in withdrawing his name from the pro
posed Uondeutfofr of the Party, to be
held iti Baltimore. Butin tho masterly
; exposition of the reasons and views in
ducing ffi it withdrawal, contained in
his recent letter, have been ably portray-,
ed the extent and nature of those differ
ences of principle, their grave moment at
present, and the dread responsibilities for
the future, depending oil their advocacy
and maintenance. With the sentiments
and principles of that letter we fully and
thoroughly accord ; nor do we imagine
it will be long before they will receive
the just appreciation and sanction of the
whole Democratic party. Yet, at present
such we know is hot tiie case with ap
parently the larger portion of the Party,
and consequently on its has devolved, at
this juncture of high and critical moment
to the welfare of our Party, and destinies
of the nation) the grave responsibility of
determining the line of action demanded
of us by devotion alike to the principles
now entertained hy the whole party, and
th'ose which at present cherished by us
peculiarly, must yet, from intrinsic force
and justice, becomea portion of the Com
mon Creed.
The duty is one of delicacy equal to its
gravity. On tho one hand, every ap
pearance of difference or exhibition of
dissatisfaction with oiirßepublicanbretfi- !
ren on the eve of the eventful struggle
which is approaching, may tend to im
pair the harmony and efficiency of the
Party in its opposition to measures and
doctrines equally dangerous and obnoxi
ous to all ; while on the other, solemn
obligations of duty, and considerations
vital not only to the South, but to the
preservation of equality of representation
and popular supremacy in the pariyjtself
forbid us to concur 111 the mode and
agency which the majority propose to
adopt for taking the sense 61 the Party in
; the selection of its candidate for the Pre
sidency. Amid these embarrassments,
that our motives may be above suspicion
and our con !uct true to duty, yet 1111
1 productive of mischief, we have resolved
i that, mising every sacrifice consistent
with principle, and smothering personal
discontents and predilections, we will
waive for the prevent, the ultimate decis
ion of the issue between us and our
friends, but for the preservation of that
issue itself, and from a sense of daty to
ourselves and the courtUy, we will frank
ly declare our determined hostility to the
j ptojiosed constitution arid organization of
1 the National Convention of the Party,
and by free and candid argument, dem
onstrate its niter incompatibility as well
with the just analogies mid sacred com
promises ofthe Constitution, as witli true
Democratic principles and the just rights
of the Southern and smaller sections of
tiie confederacy.
It may, we presume be now deemed
settled that in the Baltimore Convention
each State will voteits consolidated Elec
toral strength in the colleges, no matter
what may be its polhiearl complexion u
a whole. It wiit be jiennmed to each
| NO. 40.
State to divide its Electoral strength or
give a consolidated vote as it chooses.—
The necessary effect of which will be to
torce each State to give its consolidated
vote or lessen its relative strength. Os
these alternatives there can be no doubt,
but the first will be chosen. The effect
of this consolidated vote estimated tyitli
reference to the strength of each Sjnle in
the Union, and without reference to its
strength in the party, will be to place the
npn-slavehokiing States always in the
majority, in the nominating Convention,
although they may furnish but a minority
of the party. The majority of the Re
publican Electoral votes has generally
been found in tire Southern or slavehold
ittg Stales, and there is good reason to
lie ieve that the Southern States, as com
pared with the non-slaveholding,, will
always posses more relative strength in
the party, than in the Union. We will
not pause here to consider these causes
inherent iti our political system, and dt *
stititd to I e as permanent, which natural*
Iv lead to this result, It has been so
heretofore, it is probable that it will Ire so
hereafter. Assuming then, that the hab
itual state of things heretofore, has been
not accidental, but the result of causes
permanently operating, we are justified
in believing that the relative strength of
the South in the Republican party, must
always be groatertlianitsrelativestrength
in the Union, and if so, we shall have
the strange result, that whilst the Demo
cratic President must mainly depond ou
the South for his election, he must look
to tlu* non-slaveholding States for his
nomination. To the South this state of
things is eminently unjust, and cannot
hut be disastrous to the general interests
of the party. Massachusetts, which can
not be expected *0 vote for the next Re
publican candidate, will have nearly as
much influence >ll the nomination ns
Virginia, whose vote is almost certain.—
The three great Slates of New York,
Pennsylvania and Ohio, might be irre
trievably Whig, and yet by an union n
mong themselves, minorities impotent in
those States might be all powerful in
Odfiventtoftt constituted as nowproposed.
Is it rational to expect that such combina
tions will not take place, if such temp
tations are offered ! But laying aside
the consideration of these partial com
binations amongst the greater States, is it
not enough to dissatisfy nnv Southern
man, that the uon-slnveholding Writes
must always he in the majority in the
nominating Convention, whilst the pro
bability is, that the majority of those who
elect the Republican President, (must,
generally he 6onghr jn the siaveholding
States l The candidate being thnsselec
ted 111 reference to the views of that por
tion of the party residing in the free
States, the larger divisioh in the slnve
ho’ding States, must always be found
yielding more or lees of principle in or
d t to sustain the man thus selected, and
it mast lose instead of gaining strength
at each succeeding Presidential election,
from the difficulty of unitingits members,
upon an imperfect representative of their
opinions. In the absence of the kindly
ties ot common sympathies and principles
In-tween the candidate and the party, a
necessity arises for enforcing union by
penalties upon defection, and as the dis
cipline increases in strength and seventy,’
desertions become more numerous.—
Much as wc thus lose at home, the South
loses still more in the Union. She loses
a power, which it is true, could never
avail her hut for conservative purposes,
but which in that point of view is invalu
able to her. The balance which once
existed Iretwcen the power of the uon
slaveholding States and the siaveholding
States in the Federal Congress, has been
lost long since. Each succeeding census
hut serves to diminish still more the re
lative strength of the South. Under
the*e circumstances it behooves her to
seek some counterpoise in the Executive,
if there Ire any facilities offered her for
this purpose, either front her peculiar po
sition, or the compromises of the Consti
tution.
The circumstances, which have here
tofore given the South a majority of the
Republican party in the Union, should
also enable her to Ire felt through the
Executive, whenever that party is in the
ascendancy, and it would be so, if she
had the weight to which she is justly
entitled, in the nominating Convention.
The old Congressional caucus, however,
objectionable til other respects, was emi
nently fair in its distribution of power,
according to party strength amongst the
different sections of the confederacy. Its
nominations were generally successful,
the harmony of the Republican party
was better preserved than since the sub
stitution ofthe National Convention, and
s the South had some influence in the
general government. The power which
elected, also nominated the candidate,
and thus, much occasion for discontent
was removed. The strength of each
State was estimated by the* number of
Republican members it sent to Congress,,
and if this test was not perfectly fair, it
was nearly enough so for practical pur
poses. In referring to this mode, by
which Jefferson, Madison and Monroi
were nominated, it is not our purpose to
seek to revive that condemned institution
we only advert to it to show that it bad
one cardinal excellence, which has nevef