Newspaper Page Text
AiffiMKl®AH JAttiU L> D-U.s_UL
ilic miM pt rfeet Gove rnnient would be that which, emanating directly from the People, Governs least —Costs least —Dispenses Justiceto all, and confers Privileges on None.—BENTIIAM.
BY T. S. REYNOLDS.
AMERICAN DEMOCRAT,
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
OVER OLD DARIEN BANK.
MULBERRY STREET, MACON, GA.
AT $2,50 P£3IH ANNUM,
ftCrluvuriably Paid in Advance.^
Rates of Advertising, &c«
One square, of 100 words, or less, in small type, 73 cents
for tlte first iusertien., and 50 cents for each subsequent inser
ton.
All Advertisements containing more than 100 and less than
200 words, will be charged as two squares.
To Yearly Advertisers, a liberal deduction will be made.
H3"" N. B. Sales of LAND, by Administrators, Executors.
Guardians, arc required, by law, to be held on the firs 1
Tuesday in the month, between the hours of 10 in the fore
noon, and 3 in the afternoon, at the Court-House in the C'oun
ty in which the property is situated. Notice of these must
be given in a public Gazette, SIXTY DAYS, previous to the
day of sale.
Sales of PERSONAL PROPERTY, must be advertised in
flic same manner, FORTY DAYS previous to the day of sale.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate, must be pub’
lislicd FORTY Days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordi
tarr, for leave to sell LAND, must be published FOUR
MONTHS.
8 lies of NEGROES, must he made at public auction, on
the first Tuesday of the month, between the legal hours of
sale, at the place of public sales in the county where the let
ters testamentary, of Administration or Guardianship, shall
hive been granted, SIXTY DAYS notice being previously
given in one of the public gazettes of this State, an Jut ihe door
of the Court-House, where such sales are to be held.
Notice for leave to sell NEGROES, must be published fo r
FOUR MONTHS, before any order absolute shall be made
thereon by the Court. _
All business of this nature, will receive prompt attention, a
the Office of the AMERICAN I) EM OCR \T.
REMITTANCES BY MAIL.—“A Postmaster may cn*
close money in a letter to the publisher of a newspaper, to
pay the subscription of a third person, and frank the letter, if
written by himself.” Amos Kendall* P. M. G.
All Letters of business must be addiessed to the Pi BLisiica,
Post-Paid.
MISCELLANY.
l*ra : re and .>1 m.it iin Lil'p.
The Petrified.— “One of the most remarkable na
tural curiosities in Texas is a petrified forest near
the head of Pasigvuio rive r. It is turned to stone!
Some tree3 now growing - , are partly petrified. This
is a startling-fact for ihe natural philosophers, and
must cause them to modify the existing - tiieory of
petrifaction.”— Kennedy.
Many have visited tiie Rocky Moun
tains, who have never seen these torests
of stone, but few have been there who
have not heard of them. Many have
heard of them, who never believed in
them, and many who have long 1 disbe
lieved, have lived to be convinced, cither
by their own eyes, or by authority, too
respectable to leave farther room for
doubt. 'Lhe present writer heard much
of petrified forests, while among trappers
and old traders, in the mountains, but
always with impenetrable incredulity.—
Moses Harris, the celebrated “Black Har
ris, 1 ’ is in|the habit of embellishing the
story he tells about them, with very sur
prising touches of imagination. He de
poses and says, that birds' are there, sit
ting on the branches, the most hard-hear
ted things of all the feathered tribe, being
solidified into stone, for all time to come !
Another mountaineer will fight any man
who won’t believe, that he once sharpen
ed his knife upon the tail of an eagle that
was turned into stone while in the very
act of whetting its own bill upon another
rock. The man who tells this hard sto
ry farther declares, that he once carried a
stone sapling of pine, five hundred miles
on his shoulder, while travelling home
on foot; but, being overtaken by winter,
lie dropped the tree, knocked off and car
ried along the birds, and arrived at Inde
pendence, literally, with an important
part ol'his peisonal apparel overflowing
with rock ! Such a style of romancing
is humorous enough, but, when calcula
ted to bring any important truth into dis
credit, the sooner it is set in its proper
light the better. F,ye witnesses, of
thorough respectability, are now alive
and well known in St. Louis, who can
substantiate the tollowing anecdote as a
plain simple fact:
A few years since, an extensive tra
ding party was out ir. the mountain re
gions, when a forest of this kind was dis
covered, in the vicinity of those ranges
of elevations known as the “Black Hills.”
Singular enough, when considered in
connection with such a story as we have
now to relate, one of the party had with
himanold volumeotthe “Arabian Nights
and had made himself highly popular a
mong the simple-hearted voyageurs and
people of the camp, by reading the fasci
nating Oriental tales of that admirable ro
mance to them, by the camp fire, at night.
To do this well, a supply of light was
necessary, and the men eagerly sought
every* opportunity of securing pine-knots
for this purpose.
It was, if recollection was not misled,
in the year 1823, and somewhere in the
middle of the first month of autumn, as
we obtain the story, that twoot this party
rode away from line ot camp, one after
noon, toward a distant appearance of tim
ber, for the purpose of getting pine knots
for the evening. The camp was then
still in motion, and the two adventurers
meant to get their knots and return, cal
culating to reach the camp about time for
the evening halt. They soon reached a
cluster of pine trees, presenting every re
semblance that was usual, and promising
a rich gathering of the sort ot fuel they r
were in search of. One was still occu
pied in fastening his animal, when he
was started bv an extraordinary ringing
sound behind him, and a volley ot male
diction, in demi-French, semi-Saxon, from
his companion.
11 Malheur, be d—m ! Tonnere and
ilinfer to lie pay ! Wat is all z>s?”
83M038.AT13 8.-.IT2TPP,—“ jFrcc JTvalic, 2Lc\u Duties, iio Debt, Separation from Hanks, 23cononu?, Hctrcrtchmcnt, ant» a Strict 210 he retire to the ©oitstfliitCn.’’
“ What is the matter?” said the other.
Frenchman, half muttering in a solilo
quy of astonishment.
“What is the matter ?” inquired the
other again.
“Jaae jes’ look see here?” said the
astonished Gaul, picking his hatchet up
from the ground, and showing a ruinous
new cleft in the edge.
“Well, what’s the matter?” said his
friend.
“ Waas smazzer ? Why, will no
you not see zere ? Ze tree is grow like
d—n lie !”
“O, come, come ! don’t waste time ;
you don’t seem to know what you’re talk
ing about.”
“O, ye-es ! By bad name ! it eez you
don't know much half wat you say !”
“Fiddle ! let’s cut some knots.”
“O. ye-e-s fiddeel ! Me shall tell you,
we had most best let’s cut some steel; /”
“Cut stick! What do you want to
cut stick for?”
“ I don’t care ; I is go.”
The Frenchman was mounting his
horse to be off, when his companion,
hatchet in hand, and wondering what
had got into the other, marched up to a
young tree, and aimed a long sweeping
blow at a part that seemed to suit his pur
pose.
Cleck-eeng ! The hatchet flew out
of his hand with a sharp rebound, and
struck against another tree, ringing like
a hammer on an anvil.
“ Ah, ha ? wat you ees talk ’bout now,
eh ?” shouted the Frenchman from his
saddle. Malheur! wat eez come ? Ze
rocky mountain is go to'grass, and turn
into all tree ! Bien! e’est drote /”
The incident we have only sought to
present in native purity, as verbally ob
tained, nothing belonging to us in this
sketch, saving the mere setting together
of words. That the foremost exists there
at the head of the Chayenne river, in the
vicinity of the Black hill, is as certain as
that there are no stone trees around St.
Louis and very few wooden ones on the
Platte.
The effect produced upon the French
man that we have spoken of, was to make
him believe, implicitly, in all the stories
that he had ever read before from the
Arabian Nights. And nothing ever after
could convince him that the flying pala
ces of Aladdin, the wonderful caverns
and transccndant gardens, the abodes of
the Genii, and the wonderful extrava
gance of the fairies, was any thing but
most solemn truth, set down in a book.
Thousands will read about a “Petri
fied Forest,” still, unbelieving that any
such thing can exist in nature, and this
writer knows well how deep he is plung
ing into the reputation of a romancer by
this sketch; but the story is told, and
the learned or unlearned in theoretical
petrification, are welcome to make what
they please of it.
Some things are bound to be laughed
at before they are believed; and some
things are sure to be laughed at alter they
are believed. Now, philosophers are
cautioned to be careful how they laugh
and how they believe, in regard to this
petrified forest, and whether they believe
or laugh first, is left for their excellent
and acute discerning to decide..
St. Louis Revielle.
•‘l'ifty years Since.”
The New York Mirror contains an
essay on the manners and customs fifty
years since, which is full of admonition
to the present generation. Fifty years
make a great change, not only in the
condition ot an individual, but in the
habits and principles of society. We
make an extract for the benefit of our
readers, male and female. The writer
says:—
“ when Washington was president,
his wife knit stockings in Philadelphia,
|and the mother made dough-nuts and
! cakes between Chritmas and New Year;
now the married ladies are too proud to
make dough-nuts, besides they don't
know how, so they even send to Madame
Pompadour, or some other French cake
baker, and buy sponge cake for three
dollars a pound. In those days, N. York
1 was full of substantial comforts; now it
is full of splendid misery; then there
were no grey-headed spinsters,
they were ugly indeed,) for a man could
get married for a dollar, and begin house
keeping for twenty, and in washing his
clothes, and in cooking his victuals, the
wife saved more money than it took to
suppoi ther. . .
“Now, I have known a minister get
, five hundred dollars for buckling a cou-
I p|e, then wine, cake, and et cetera, five
hundred more—wedding clothes and
jewels a thousand —six or seven hundred
in driving to the Springs or some deser
ted mountain, then a house must begot
for eight hundred dollars per annum and
furnished at the expense of two or three
thousand—and when all this is done, Ins
pretty wife can neither make a cake nor
put an apple in a dumpling. 1 hen a
cook must be got for ten dollars a month
_a chambermaid, a laundress, and a
seamstress, at seven dollars each, and as
the fashionable folly of the day has ban
ished the mistress from the kitchen, those
blessed helps aforesaid reign supreme,
and while master and mistress are play
: in ,r cards in the parlor, the sen ants are
MACON, WEDNESDAY, JULY 24, 1844.
playing the devil in the kitchen—thus
lighting the candle at both ends, it soon
burns out. Poverty comes in at the
door and drives love out at the window.
It is this stupid and expensive nonsense
which deters so many unhappy old
bachelors from entering the state of bles
sedness ; lienee you find more deaths
than marriages.”
In Ireland a warming pan is called a
friar. Not many years ago, an unso
phisticated girl took service in a hotel in
the town of . Poor thing—she had
never heard of a warming pan in her life,
though she regularly confessed to a friar
once a year.
It so happened, on a cold and drizzly
night, that a priest took lodgings in the
inn. He had travelled far, and being
weary, retired at an early hour. Soon
after, the mistress of the house called the
servant girl.
“ Betty, put the friar into No. 6.”
Up went Betty to the poor priest.
“ Your reverence must go into No. 6,
my mistress says.”
“ How, what ?” asked he, annoyed at
being disturbed.
“ Your reverence must go into No. 6.”
There was? no help for it, and the
priest arose donned a dressing gown and
went into No. 6.
In about fifteen minutes the mistress
called to Betty.
“ Put the friar into No. 4.”
“ Betty said something about disturb
ing his reverence, which her mistress did
not understand. So she told the girl, in
a sharp voice, to do always as she was
directed, and she would always do right.
Up went Betty, and the unhappy priest,
despite his angry protestations, was obli
ged to turn out of No. 6 and go into No.
4. But a little time elapsed ere the girl
was tc'.d to put the friar into No. 8. and
the poor priest thinking that every body
was mad in the house, and sturdiiy re
solving to quit it the next morning, crept
into the damp sheets of No. 8. But he
was to enjoy no peace there. Betty was
again directed to put the friar into No. 3,
and with tears in her eyes she obeyed.—
In about an hour, the landlady concluded
to go to bed herself, and the friar was
ordered into her room. Wondering
what it all meant, Betty roused up the
priest and told him that he must go into
No. 11. The monk crossed himself,
counted his beads, and went into No. 11.
It so happened that file husband of the
landlady was troubled with the green
eyed monster. Going up to bed, there
fore. before his wife, his suspicions were
confirmed by seeing between his own
sheets, a man sound asleep. To rouse
the sleeper and kick him into the street
was the work of a moment; nor was the
mistake explained till the next day, when
the priest informed the innkeepers what
outrages had been committed upon him,
and lie learned to his amazement, that he
had been serving the whole night as a
warming pan.— Noah’s Messenger.
An affecting Incident.
The following touching incident is
from the New York Mirror:
“An eminent clergyman one evening
became the subject of conversation, and
a wonder was expressed that he w as nev
er married. “ That wonder,” said Miss
Potter, was once expressed to the Rever
end gentleman himself in my hearing,and
he told a story in answer which I will
tell you, and perhaps slight as it may
seem, it is the history of other hearts as
sensitive and as delicate as his own.—
Soon after his ordination he preached,
once every sabbath for a clergyman in a
small village not twenty miles from Lon
don. Among his auditors, from Sunday
. to Sunday, he observed a young lady,
who always occupied a certain seat, and
whose close attention began insensibly
I to grow to him an object of thought and
; pleasure. She left the church as soon as
the service was over, and it so chanced
that he went on for a year without know
ing her name, but his sermon was not
written without many a thought how she
would approve of it, nor preached w’ith
satisfaction unless he read approbation in
her face. Gradually he came to think of
her at other times than when writing
sermons, and to wish to see her on other
days than Sunday ; but the w’eeks slip
ped on, and though he fancied that she
crew paler and thinner, he never muster
ed resolution enough to ask her name or
seek to speak with her. By those silent
steps however, love had u’orked into his
heart and lie made up his mind to seek
her acquaintance and marry her if possi
ble, when one day he was sent for to
minister at a funeral. The face of the
corpse was the same that had looked up
to him Sunday after Sunday, till lie learn
ed to make it a part of his religion and
his life. He was unable to perforin the
service, and another clergyman officiated
and after she was buried, her father took
him aside and apoligized lor giving him
pain, but he could not resist the impulse
to tell him that his daughter had men
tioned his name with her last breath, and
lie was afraid a Concealed affection for
him had hurried her to the grave. Since
that, said the clergyman in question, my
heart has been dead within me, and I
look forward only to the time when I
shall speak to her in Heaven.
Th*> Family Circle Cheerfulness.
The highestachievementof moral phi
losophy is, to rise above the cares, vexa
tions and disappointments of life ; and the
tendency of religion, resting upon a di
vine basis, buoys the true Christian a
bovc the evils that surround him, and
inspires him with moral fortitude and
vigor to battle with every calamity, and
to maintain an unruffled spirit amid the
billows and conflicting currents whicli
agitate the ocean of human existence.
If the hurricane rages, instead ofyield
ing to its fury, and giving way to de
spondency, he exerts every energy to
ward off danger, and strives to look for
ward, indulging a soothing hope that the
future will be less disastrous than the
present. This method of encountering
the evils to which every body is in a
greater or less degree exposed, deprives
disappointment of its sting, is an antidote
to the poison of slander, and begets a
spirit of cheerfulness which is essential
to happiness. He is like the eagle which,
when clouds overspread the earth, rises a
bove them, to enjoy the sunshine. No
matter how prosperous an individual
may be in his pecuniary, domestic and
social relations—if he suffer his spirit to
be discomposed by trifling annoyances,
he is a stranger to enjoyment, and every
day ot his life is embittered by some pet
ty cause of vexation, which his own mor
bid disposition magnifies into a serious
calamity. On the other hand, overwhel
ming must be the misfortune, which can
prostrate a man that has been disciplin
ed to patient endurance, and habituated
himself to a uniform cheerfulness of
mind.
Gay spirits. —lt is a strange thing,
but so it is, that very brilliant spirits are
almost always the result of mental suffer
ing, like the fever produced by a wound.
I sometimes doubt tears, I oftener doubt
lamentations: but I never yet doubted the
existence of that misery which flushes
the cheek and kindles the eye, and which
makes the lip mock, with sparklingwords
the dark and hidden world within.
There is something in intense suffer
ing that seeks concealment, something
that is fain to belie itself. In Cooper’s nov
el of the “ Bravo,” Jaques conceals him
coif and liio boat, by lyinp where the
moonlight fell dazzling on the water. —
We do the same with any great despair;
we shroud it in a glittering atmosphere
of smiles and jests ; but "the smiles are
sneers; and the jests are sarcasms. There
is always a vein of bitterness running
through these feverish spirits, they are
very delirium of sorrow seeking to.escape
from itself, and which cannot. Sus
pense and agony are hidden by the moon
shine.
Tite Almond Blossom. —There is
something peculiary lovely in the al
mond blossom ; it brines the warmth of
the rose on the last cold airs of winter, a
rich and glowing wreath, when all be
side is desolate ; so frail, too, and so del
icate, like a fairy emblem of those sweet
and gentle virtues whose existence is first
known in an hour of adversity.
Pity and Scorn. —He that hath pity
on another man’s sorrow, shall be far
from it himself; and he that delighteth in
and scorneth the misery of another shall
one time or other fall into it himself.—
Sir W. Raleigh.
Everyman has in his own life follies
enough; in his own mindtroublesenough;
in the performance of his duties deficien
cies enough; in his own fortunes evils
enough; without being curious aboutthe
affairs of others.
While the squaw toils in the field, she
hangs her child, as spring does its blos
soms, on the boughs of a tree, that it may
be rocked by the breezes from the land
of souls, and soothed to sleep by the mel
ody of birds.
Flowers. —tt is curious to note how
gradually the flowers warm into the rich
colours and aromatic breatli ofsumtncr.—
First, comes the snow-drop, formed from
the snows which give it name ; fair, but
cold and scentless ; then comes the prim
rose, with its faint, soft hues, and its
faint, soft perfume—an allegory of actual
existence, where the tendcrest and most
fragile natures are often those selected to
bear the coldest weather, and the most
bleak exposure.
Stale's Evidence. —Ajgood story is
told of Geo. White, a notorious thief in
Massachusetts. He was once arraigned
for horse stealing, when it was supposed
that he was commoted with an extensive
band, which was laying contributions on
all the stables round. White was offer
ed large inducements to reveal his associ
ates, all of which he declined, until an
assurance from the court was obtained
that lie should be discharged if he would
turn on his comrades. The jury return
ed a verdict of “not guilty” when he was
called upon for his promised relations.—
“I shall be faithful to my word,” said
he, “understand that the devil is the only
accomplice ! ever had: we have been a
great while in partnership: you have ac
quitted me, and you may hang him it you
can catch him.’’
POLITICAL.
lli"li duties make low .pi ices—low tiuiirn
make high prices—the more toll the
Miller takes, the more meal the farm
er gets—the less toll the less meal he
gets.
Senator Evans of Maine (says the N.
York Plebeian) made a capital speech at
the commencement ot the present Con
gress, which is we understand extensive
ly circulated among the farmers, with a
most happy effect. Mr. Evans show’s
conclusively that the higher the duty the
cheaper the merchant can afford to sell
his calicoes and cloths, and the lower the
duty the more he is compelled to ask for
them. We see from an article in the
New Orleans Register that the Millers
have adopted the logic of Mr. Evans, and
have concluded to support the tariff.—
We publish from the Register tfie follow
ing, which is the most forcible argument
in favor of the present w’hig tariff that we
recollect to have seen any where.
The Miller and liis whig customers.
—Some weeks since Mr. McConnell was
in Mr. Douglass’ Congressional district
making democratic speeches, where he
met a staunch democratic friend of his,
who accosted him very familiarly, and
said, friend Mack 1 hear you are going to
make a democratic speech here to-day
about the tariff.
Well says Mr. M. I’ll think of it; have
you any objections, friend Bob?
Well I have says his friend, I am afraid
you are going to interfere with my inter
est, with your confounded discussion a
bont the tariff and about high and low"
prices.
If that is so Bob, I am very sorry, pray
how can that happen?
Well Mack, I will tell you in a private
way like, hut I don’t like you to be bab
blingit around the country and makniga
blowing horn of yourself about it, and
get me into a deal of a scrape in the
newspapers besides.
Oh, of course, says Mr. M. I will not
whisper it io any one; but how is it l
Well says Bob, you know I am a mil-*
ler, and keep a grist mill and grind for
toll.
Yes, I know, and a first rate mill it is
too, and all your neighbors say that vou
are an anomaly nrmuuiv, a max rinc,
accommodating, honest miller that never
takes too much toll.
Oh yes I understand you, I understand
your grist of soft corn : but that is nei
ther here or there, let me tell you how it
was.
Some weeks ago one of my whig cus
tomers come to mill and brought with
him a copy of Mr. Evan’s speech on the
tariff, and while his grist was grinding,
he sat down and read it over to me, and
commented learnedly and long upon that
part of the speech that proves that a high
protective tariff makes goods lower, and
the higher the duties the lower the price
to the customer.
I listened attentively and never dispu
ted a word that he said, and when he
was about to start home, 1 asked him to
lend me the speech, for I uns greatly ta
ken with it and wanted to read it to the
people as they came to the mill.
My whig friend readily complied,
thinking that he had made such a valua
ble convert to the high whig tariff pro
tection cause.
As soon as he left l went to work and
made me anew toll dish, and I made it
about two inches higher than the old one,
and immediately commenced taking toll
with my new dish.
The report was soon circulated in the
neighborhood too, that 1 had turned
whig, and ;ny whig neighbors llockd in
by dozens to see me, and among the rest
my old friend that loaned me the speech
with several others came to get grinding,
and all shook me cordially by the hand
and welcomed me to the household of
whiggery.
As soon as their greetings were over, I
took my new toll dish in their presence,
heaped it rounding lull out ot each of
their grists.
Hallo Bob.saysoneof them, you have
got anew toll dish hain’t you.
Oh yes, says I, the old one got a little
shackling like, and a little wore off at the
top, and rather too small for the interest
ot my customers, and I thought it was
best to have anew one.
Yes, by gracious says one of them, do
you see that Williams, it it aint about a
third bigger than the old one, I will be
shot; sure enough, says the other. Wby
Bob, what the mischief docs that mean,
how is that for the interest of your cus
tomers ns you say ?
Oh, says I, very plainly, dou t you un
derstand it; the higher the toll the lower
the price of grinding and the more meal
you get.
Pshaw, now Bob, says one of them,
how can you make that out ? Now none
of your humbugging ns with your big toll
dish in these hard Tyler times.
Well now says I, it is all ns plain as
day, come sit down here and let me ex
plain it to you ; and straightway took out
Evm’s speech and read t.i them and ex
plained how the high tariff worked, and
although it appeared to increase the cost
ol the goods to the importer and retailing
merchant, yet the higher he paid for them,
the lower he could afl’ord to sell them to
VOL. II—NO 10.
his customers, the farmers and laborers
who consumed them; and «now said I,
the same universal law of trade and cause
and effect applies with equal force to the
miller and his customers. He does the
grinding, and takes the toll, you are his
customers and consume the meal, and the
toll being the price and cost of grinding,
it follows, as a necessary consequence
that the higher the toll the lower the
price of grinding, and although my new
toll dish appears larger, you get more
meal by it; and all this I proved very
clearly by Mr. Evan’s speech and the ar
gument of my whig neighbors who gave
me the document; and I tell you friend
Mack, it was a knock down argument to
those boys, they looked at each other like
so many bewildered pigs in a Newfound
land fog, each expecting the other to an
swer my speech, but it was no go, it was
a good whig argument and proved by ac
credited whig documents, and they im
mediately gave m and admitted, that al
though they did not exactly understand
it at first, vet it is now clear and self-evi
dent as Mr. Evans’ argument, showing
the higher the tariff, which stands in the
place of toll, the cheaper the goods which
stand in the place of the meal.
From that time I have been using my
toll dish pretty freely, and manufacturing
meal and flour is got to be a first rate bu
siness and what is better, my whig cus
tomers, although their grist of meal don’t
last quite as long, as they used to, arewell
satisfied ; and now Mack, I don’t want
you to be blowing away here that Evan’s
speech is not true, and that this whig
doctrine about the tariff makes goods low
er is ail wrong, lor if you do my pond
is out, and I am ruined, with my new
toll operation.
But says Mr. McConnell, pray Bob,
how do you aret along with your demo
cratic customers, surely you can’t hum
bug them with your Evans speech and
whig arguments ?
Oh shaw, says Bob, I use the old toll
dish for them and all goes off well, but
now don’t you tell any body what I told
you.
From the. Spectator.
The frst threat and move to Disunion.
\Ve have before us, in the National In-
f • 1 - r *•*"** -*• ■* v ;
tain members of Congress from the north,
at the close of the last Congress, on the
subject of Texas. It is dated 3d March,
1843, and is headed, “To the people of
the free states of the Union,” and signed
by the following members of Congress :
JOHN UUINCY.ADAMS,
SETH M. GATES,
VVM. SLADE,
\VM. B. CALHOUN,
JOSHUA 11. G HIDINGS,
SHERLOCK J. ANDREWS,
NATHANIEL B. BORDEN,
THOS. C. CHRITTENDEN,
JOHN MATTOCKS,
CHRISTOPHER MORGAN,
JOSHUA M. HOWARD,
VICTORY BIRDSEYE,
HILAND HALL.
The two last paragraphs of the ad
dress are as follows:
“We hesitate not to say that annexa
tion, effected by any act or proceedings
of the federal government, or any ol its
departments, would be . identical with
dissolution. It would be a violation of
our national compact, its objects, designs
and the great elementary principles
which entered into its formation, of a
character so deep and fundamental, and
would be an attempt to enternize an in
stitution and a power of nature so unjust
in themselves, soiujurious to the interests,
and abhorrent to the feelings of the peo
ple of the free states, as, in our opinion,
not only inevitably to result in a DIS
SOLUTION OF THE UNION, BUT
FULLY TO JUSTIFY IT ; and we
not only assert that the people of the free
states “ought not to submit to it,” but we
say, with confidence, they would not sub
mit to it. We know their present tem
per and spirit on this subject too well to
believe for a moment that they would
become particepts criminis in uny such
subtle contrivance for the irremediable
perpetuation of on institution which the
wisest and best men who formed our fed
eral Constitution, as well from the slave
as the free states, regarded as an evil
and a curse, soon to become extinct u
der the operation of laws to be passed
prohibiting the slave trade, and the pro
gressive influence of the principles ofth
Revolution. \
“To prevent the success of this
nefarious project to preserve from such
gross violation of the Constitution of our
country, adopted expressly u to set rc
the blessings of liberty? and not tli
perpetuation of slavery—and to prove
the SPEEDY AND VIOLENT Di.:
SOLUTION OF THE UNION, %
invite you to unite, without the distinc
tion of party, in an immediate expression
of your views on this subject, in such
manner as you may deem liest calcula
ted to answer the end proposed.”
The National Intelligencer, in intro
ducing the to the attention ot
his readers, does not notice or rebuke the
threats oi disunion. Indeed, he would
seem to approve of them, for he says:—
“ If we feet any reluctance in complying
with the request, from a most highly