American Democrat. (Macon, Ga.) 1843-1844, February 21, 1844, Image 1

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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 PUBLISHED WEEKLY, IN THE REAR OF J. BARNES' BOOKSTORE. COTTON AV£NUK| MACON, GA. at two dollars per annum, IN ADV ANCE. jf Rates of Advertising, Ac, One square, of 100 word*, or less, m small typo, 75 rente f*r the first iusertioL, and £0 cents for each subsequent inter* i on. All Advertisements containing more than 100 and Test than 200 words, will be charged as two squares. To Yearly Advertisers, a liberal deduction will be made. H3r* N. B. Sales of LAND, by Administrators, Executors. Guardians, are required, by law, to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours u 4 10 in the foru* I4A9D, and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court-House in the Coun ty in which the property is situated. Notice of these must he given in a public Gazette, SIXTY DAYS, previous to the day of sale. Sales of PERSONAL PROPERTY, must be advertised in the same manner, FORTY DAYS previous to the day of sale. Notice (o Debtors and Creditors of an Estate, must be pub. jishod FORTY Days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Onli* tary, for leave to sell LAND, must be published FOLK months. Sales of NEGROES, must be made at public auction, op the first Tuesday of the month, between the legal hours o ale, at the place of public sates m the county where the let ters testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship, shall have been granted, SIXTY DAYS notice being previously given in one of tho public gazettes of tins State, and at the door of the Court-House, where such sales are to be held. Notice lor leave to sell NEGROES, must be published for POUR MONTHS, before any order absolute shall be made thereon by the Court. All badness of iliis nature, will receive prompt attention, at the Office of the AMERICAN DEMOCRAT. REMITTANCES UY MAIL.—“A Postmaster may en close money in a tetter to the publisher of i newspaper, to pay the subscription of a third person, and frank the letter, if written by himself.” Amos K'nduU, P MG. COMMUNICATIONS addressed to ike Editor — Post Paid. } 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