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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