Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

SStaklij (fimUtnlionuliM. BY JAMES GEARD3STER. TUESDAY .HORNING, MAY 10. Angara Constitutionalist. We regret that this paper evinces an unwilling- a ness, or an incompetency, to understand ihe Re- g puUican, and represent its positions might. Other . engagements have prevented us from uoticing earlier an article which appeared in that journal some days ago, in which, we shall not say par- r ticular pains were taken to misrepresent us, but we were as effectually and grossly libelled to its read- § ers as if a malice aforethought had prompted its * would-be exposition. This is the opening paragraph of an article j which appeared in the Savannah Republican , of the 4th inst., in reply to the comments which we c made a few days ago, upon what was then its latest definition of position m reference to the next Presi- j dential election. In relation to the charges which j our contemporary prefers against us in this para graph iu the shape of regrets, we have only to say, simply and truthfully, that we have never evinced l any unwillingness to represent its positions aright, but we do begin to suspect that we are incompe- tent to understand it. Certainly we are incompe tent to reconcile its different and conflicting utter- auces upon the question of the policy and position of the southern wing of the opposition in the next contest for the Prcsideucy. And we apprehend that a majority of its readers are laboring under the same disability. Iu its issue of the 25th of January, declaring what should be the position of the southern w ing of the opposition in 1860, the Republican said : Should matters remain as they are, and the Re- 1 publican and Democratic parties both preserve their organization, and each run a candidate for the Presidency in 1860, a similar question will arise, ansi we shall be called on to give it a calm, delib erate and patriotic determination. All our inclina tions are practical, and we think it the duty of **y good citizen to direct his vote and influence in such mauner as they will best subserve the true interests and welfare of his country, even though he may do it under circumstances anything but conformable to his tastes and inclinations. He is not responsidle tor those circumstances, for he took no part in their creation ; and the only ques tion will be, how shall he act that his views and opinions may exercise the greatest influence in directing the policy of the government, and saving it from excesses and ruin? If this be the right principle to animate us, and if the Charleston Con vention should nominate a candidate not other wise objectionable than that he holds to the gen erally recognised principles of the Democratic party, it appears to us that there will be no round, patriotic reason for a division among the men of ihe South. We can, see no alternative to which the opposition coubl resort that would enable them better to serve either the country or themselves. In fact, it will be a necessity, from which there is no way of escape consistent with duty. In its issue of the 20th of April, just ninety days, with three days of grace, after it had made the de claration we have quoted above, the Republican again defining its position in reference to the next Presidential election, said: So far as we are concerned, our position in re ference to the next Presidential election is simply thr: We think the Democratic party, after a fall *ou moused every trust that >«* h**n comrtuUed to its hands; has got the treat ft fees b-en r* fbff«tc;l alt to u.* . confide.; us of the people > / zmtnor this country to their government and tut roust*/emstitutionat liberty. To that end weave willing ,o cast our vote lor any sound, patriot. ‘ statesmen for President and Vice President, of whatever name, whose past history affords a guar anty of reform, aud especially of opposition to all the destructive elements that are now seeking to undermine the government and bring the Consti tution into contempt. In this noble object we shall gladly unite with Whigs, Democrats, Repub licans, and meu of every flame, who, irrespective of past associations, are willing to come forward and rescue their country from impending dangers. We shall object to the co-operation of no man , so we are sure of electing those upon whom the country may rely with an assurance of an honest, efficient and faithful administration of its affairs. In the first of these articles, it will be observed, the Republican declared that it would be the duty of the southern wing of the opposition, in the con test of 1860, to sustain the nominee of the Demo . cratic party; whilst in the last it declared that it was the highest duty of the freemen of this coun try to overthrow that party, and, with this end in view, pronounced in favor of a coalition of all the elements of the opposition. So, at least, we under stood it, and so we represented it, in commenting, a few days ago, upon these two irreconcileable ar ticles. The Republican asserts that they are not irreconcileable, and that we have grossly misrep resented it, in the construction which we have given to the last one. We have reproduced them, that our readers may determine for themselves whether the Republican is authorised to make either of these assertions; but as we have no dis position to bold our contemporary to the position in which his article of the 29th of April placed him, especially when he disavows that position, we accept the following from his article of the 4th inst., as the true statement of his position, in re ference to the policy of the southern opposition in the next Presidential election. It is his latest, and we trust will be his last pronunciamento upon the subject: So far as the opposition party is concerned, in stead ofdesiriDg a union of all the anti-Democratic elements, we have no wish or expectation that such a consummation should be brought about. We distinctly stated, or intimated, in our article, that such a thing was both impracticable and un desirable. So far as regards the candidate, we would not only not vote for a nominee taken from the Re publican ranks and holding Republican doctrines, but we should refuse to aid in the election of a southern man, however sound he may be, who would accept the leadership of that party. M’lle. Piccolomini has taken passages for her self and suite on the Vanderbilt, which sails June 4tb, for Southampton and Have. The delegates to the Southern Baptist Conven ts*;, which convenes on Monday, 2d inst, says the Richmond Enquirer , at the First Presbyterian Church, will number between eight hundred and one thousand reverend gentlemen. It will be the largest Convention of this denomination ever held in tbefUnited States. A national convention of homcepathists will meet lr. Boston on the Ist of Jane. The St. Louis directory, for this year, just pub lished, gives the population of that city at nearly one hundred and ninety thousand. Sesiocs Accident. —We regret to learn that a little boy, son of our worthy and esteemed towns man, Mr. W. Jf. Strange, got his thigh broken by trying to climb,upon a bale of cotton, at the depot in this place, on Tuesday last, and but for the timely aid.of a little negro, would doubtless have resulied in more -serious consequences, as the weight of the bale would have crushed him. Savannah Republican, 7th inet. Through the kindness of the superintendents of the Borne and the Western and Atlantic railroads, we are authorised to say that the delegates to the Cherokee Georgia Baptist Convention will pass over these roads free on their return home, by pro ducing to the conductors certificates from the pre siding officers of the convention that they are delegates. The convention will meet at Dalton on Saturday, the 14th inst. —Rome {6a.) Courier. National Medical Convention. The latest dates we have have from the National - Medical Convention, in session in Louisville, Ky., are of the loth inst. We find the following tele- t graphic dispatch in the Nashville Union and j American: ' Four essays competing for the annual prize were s rejected. < A paper was read by Dr. Joseph Jones, of An- 1 gusta, Ga., on the chemical analysis of fluids and ] secretions of the body in cases of malarious dis- i eases. It was proposed to refer this paper to the | committee on prizes for the annual prizes, but Dr. Jones objected. Medical Convention , Afternoon. —A committee ] of five was appointed to confer with a committee ] of the Medical Teachers’ Association respecting i the Qualification of graduates of Medical colleges. \ Dr. Jones’ paper was referred to the committee on | prize essays. It is reported that the Administration ap proves of Gov. Ccmming’s course in Utah. The municipal election in Philadelphia, on the Sd inst., resulted in the choice of the people’s candidates for Treasurer and Commissioner, by two thousand six hundred majority. The Demo crats are in the minority in both branches of the City Cc uncil. So says a dispatch to the western papers. [communicated. 1 Mount Vernon Contribution—Sons of • Malta. Mrs. Philoclea E. Eve— Madame: At a meeting of Oglethorpe, No. 4, Independent Order Sons ot Malta, it was unanimously resolved “that the sum of fifty dollars be appropriated from the treasury to the Ladies’ Mount Vernon Association, and that a committee of three be appointed to present the same to Mrs. Philoclea E. Eve, Vice Regeut for Georgia.” The undersigned having been selected a com mittee, under the foregoing resolution, beg your acceptance of the enclosed check for fifty dollars— an offering from the Sons of Malta, in Augusta, to a cause scarcely less sacred than that which, on a late memorable occasion, appealed so successfully to the sympathies of our brethren of Memphis. The undersigned, in discharging this pleasant duty, beg leave to congratulate you upon the sue. cess which has crowned your patriotic devotion to . the memory of Washing^; and wishing you still , brighter results in the future, remain, very respect fully, Y our obedient servants, ti’LiEN Cummins, , W». C. Sibley, \ J. V. H. Allen. To Messrs. Julies Cumming, Wm. C. Sibley, and . J. V. H. Allen. ( ientlemen: The Sons of Malta belonging to the > Oglethorpe Lodge, are received into our Order 1 with acclamation. Like to their namesakes of the olden time, they come where their assistance is • needed; they aid woman in her enterprise; they j assist in rescuing the mcrid tomb of their country f from desolation and decay, and thin snield that ' Kuljiy bus Jaiu. ,4f ,t!“: pr.cciual efll- J iiw in ‘kte Slate m her &rb\ D , and a«r . heart 11 rubs with gratemi pride at every sneces e sive manifestation of their appreciation of her ef ' forts, and of her acceptability to them as an officer. e The Regent, through the Monni Vernon Rioori, "f the organ of that association’published in Pbila . delphia, thus compliments our city: “The Vice 1 Regent of Georgia may well be proud of the noble 1 response her city has made to her earnest efforts j in behalf of the association. Augusta, with a . population of about twenty-two thousand, hascon f Iribuled to the Mt. Vernon fund no less than three i thousand two hundred and three dollars and six- J ty-two cents, the largest contribution given by any j city yet, in ratio of numbers and wealth.” t Friends, we will do more than this. Respectfully, Pbiloclea E. Evf, Vice Regent State of Georgia. From the New Orleans Picayune, Hay 1. Effects of Crevasses. The facts recorded in regard to the Mississippi river the present season, suggest inferences that shruld not be overlooked. The prominent fact which cannot fail to incite inquiry, is that at no point from Cairo to Memphis has the river this season attained an elevation • equal to the height of water recorded in 1858, while from Princeton to this point, the water , ranges from nineteen and-a-half to four inches above flood marks of that year. At Princeton, ' Lake Providence and intermediate points, the wa • ter is above the known marks of the last flood. i Yet the Arkansas contributed less than in 1858 to the volume of water which swells the Mississippi, and comparatively no crevasses are recorded until we reach the outlets into the great Yazoo valley. Below the first of these outlets the remarkable flood of this season really commences. At Vicksburg, the elevation is nineteen and a half inches above the highest point reached in 1858. At Natchpz, the height is several inches above that recorded in the great flood of 1828. Twenty-five miles below that city a large section of river lands are now under water, that have es caped all inundation since that memorable year. At the mouth of the Red, at Baton Rouge, and even here in New Orleans, the water is above the highest record of 1858. Yet, as we leave Prince ton, we come into the region of crevasses. Just below Vicksburg the While crevasse is above half in width. Indeed, between Princeton and Natchez, the flood has wrought great destruction —the river being at some points not far from fifty miles in width. . Now, if the drawing off' of water in immense quantities does, as it is claimed, lower the surface of the river either above or below the point of out let, why is it that, from Cairo down to Memphis, where the river bed has carried nearly all its water, the river has not attained at any point the height of 1858, by six and a half inches, while in the re gion of unprecedented crevasses, and along the whole line of the river below, it has risen many inches above any lately recorded flood 1 It does not answer the question to say that a greater quantity of water has been poured into the Mississippi below Princeton, this year, than in 1858. Such is not the fact. Arkansas has not been dangerously high during this season. The Red river has |contnbuted but very little to our present flood. The Yazoo has not risen above the height recorded last year. Still we have unpre cedented disasters in the upper river parishes of Louisiana, and along the whole river line of Mis sissippi, while in the extreme lower valley we find the elevation of the river dangerous and un- 1 exampled. The liver this year has poured over the banks . at the lower part of Algiers, where no levee has ever been built, and none ever before been needed. r The facts this year recorded of the bar of tbe Mississippi also are suggestive. While the water at a low stage of the river spread over the large 1 surface between and near the passes, the bar be came impassable, bat as soon as it rose above so ' as to give tbe mass of the river water a greater ’ velocity, twenty-one feet could be obtained ou the passes, and Paso a I’Outre, where navigation bad been tbe moat difficult, but where the current was the mostrapid, became the easiest pass for entrance or egress. Is it not plain that as the waters of this river are diffused, the velocity of the current is changed, deposits commence, aod the plane of the river sur face is raised ? Does it not follow that confining tbe river within its own bed, increasing the quan tity of water, increases tbs velocity and keeps down the plane of the river’s surface ? Pittsburg, May 7.—The loss by the steamboat fire is one hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars. Freights insured at ten thousand dollars. YEGTTTSTY, GLA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 11. 1859. - From the Mobile Register . May 8. The Administration and Mr. Forsyth, i To the Editor of the Register : c Whatever doubts may have existed as to the j title of the late Washington Union to .speak as the i organ of Mr. Buchanan’s administration, there is g none whatever as to the status of its alias, the i Washington Constilulim. I know positively, my- > self, that the plan to set this paper on its legs un- j der the name of Mr. Bowman, was arranged at tho f White House by the President and his cabinet, t I know much, too, of the details of that arrange- < ment, and by what nice adjustment of government j patronage the organ was to be sustained, and other j parties, who had a lien on that patronage, were to >e reconciled. I do not mention this for the pur pose of going into the question of the Presidential , propriety of this arrangement, but only to show that I have a right to assume that what the Consti tution savs about me is said by the authority of its ( principals, the President and his cabinet. My trieuds well know that I have not been fairly dealt with by the Democratic Administration, and I have frequently been urged by them to state the facts to the public for the purpose of defending my reputation against the injury which it has un doubtedly suffered from the duplicity of my Gov ernment,’ and the misrepresentations of my ene mies, founded upon its equivocal course. I should have held my peace and refrained from what I am now’ about to publish, had not Mr. Buchanan, through his organ, aggravated the wrong he has done, and permitted to be done to me, by au article which appeared in that paper on the 21st ultimo. This journal says I have “ declared war against the Administration.” It would have spoken more accurately if it had said that in withdrawing my confidence from the Administration I had only imi tated the example of the great body of the Demo cratic party —an example which was set for me while I was yet in a distant land. When I came home, in November last, I discovered that “ gulf of cold distrust” between the President and his party, of which I wrote to the Register from New York. 1 have since met hundreds of Democrats— from New Orleans to New York—and I have yet to meet the first one who does not regard the Ad ministration as a lamentable failure, and as having fallen away from the lofty policy settled for it at Cincinnati. Aside from any personal grievances, therefore, I found that I had to take sides between the chief and the body of the Democratic party, and I be came satislied that the party had consulted its safety and its honor in not holding itself responsi ble for the weakness or the treachery which had lured its head from the standard of pledges and principles which I helped, as one of the commit tee, to bear to him from Cincinnati to Wheatland. I had no occasion to resort to my personal com i plaints for the purpose of “ declaring war against the Administration.” There existed political reasons in abundance to justify me and every Democrat, in the public de claration that the Democratic party did not ap prove and could not be held responsible for the foreign and domestic policy of the Administration* This course was essential to the salvation of the party, because no party could survive a popular election that bore upon its back such an accumu* lated weight of inanity and violated pledges. But , Mr. Buchanan has chosen to force me to speak of ’ my personal causes of discontent with him, and has, through his organ, invented an afterthought, ! without a shadow of foundation in fact, to account i for an act of injustice that is not capable of de . fence—au afterthought in perfect harmony with r the duplicity that preceded it. I pass over ail the twaddle of the organ about 1 the “kind and friendly feelings ” of th/rresident and Cabinet towards me, and that tha correspon . dense #fcfc my mission will phew th » ,» 4. «. L.J* v ipt * Al% 10 appreciate the species *. ‘ kindn-*s have re-i ’ ceived, an- as to the records of the fCpSrwbetit • doing me justice, it is the knowledge v that fact , I that constitutes the very groundwork r.l my com ’ plaint. If the government had not - illy endorsed ’ my every official act m Mexico, and said to me. ‘ “well done, good and faithful servant”—if it had i recalled me and said, “we disapprove of your » course,” I might have been mortified, but my lips , would have been sealed. But to be endorsed and approved, and even flattered—to be adorned with ‘ the garlands of high commendation, and then to - be sacrificed on the altar of duty, admitted to be I well and faithfully performed—is certainly not do ing “ample justice,” and is a very odd way of showing friendship and “ open and frank kind ness.” But if this pretence of friendliness towards me is hollow and ill-timed, much worse has to be said of the reasons given by the organ for not sending me back to a post from which I was serreptitious ly called for the purpose of getting rid of me. Here are the reasons: “It was obviously oat of the question to send ■ him back as minister to the Liberal government, . simply because, whether rightfully or wrongfully, ' he is understood to have been the lirst foreign min , ister to recognise the anti-constitutional revolution ' and the usurped government of Zuloaga. This, for manifest reasons, must have rendered him ob noxious to the Constitutional party, and to the Lib ; eral government of Juarez. The public interest, therefore, required that a new man should be se lected for this position, against whom no preju | dices existed ; and, hence, the dissatisfaction of Mr. Forsyth.” ( IJam sorry to be obliged to say it, but this brief 1 paragraph contains absolute and naked falsehood I from beginning to end. I solemnly declare that this article gives me the very first intimation that | I have ever heard from the Administration of its disapproval of my acknowledgement of the Zuloa ga administration as the de facto government of Mexico. Neither in the public despatches of the department, in the private correspondence of Gen. Cass, nor in very frequent conversations with the President and Secretary of State, or any officer of the government, has the thought ever been breath ed to me that it disapproved of that act. If it were true, surely, I should have been told of it, else the government was derelict of its duty. I gave my reasons in full to the Government for that step, which was forced upon me by a sense of • duty, but contrary to all my sympathies and incli nations. Not one word of dissent to rny views was ever expressed or to be implied, while its sub sequent instructions virtually recognised the pro priety of my course and.the soundness of my rea sons for it. The records of the department will shew that it is unequivocally false, that 1 was the first foreign minister to recognise the Zuloaga government.” Just the reverse is the truth, for I was the last to do it, and I waited until the last moment, in the hope that something would occur to prevent the unwelcome duty. When called upon to decide the question, there was no other government to be in existence. It was afterwards that the Juarez Administration was formed at Queretara. It is the very reverse of true, also, that I was ob noxious to the Liberal party. I enjoyed the confi dence and sympathy of that party in a high degree, I was personally intimate with its leaders in the capital, and in correspondence with many of them out of it—my house was always their ready asylum and refuge whenever in danger of liberty or life from the tyranny of Zuloaga. Don Miguel Lerdo de Tejada, the first man of the and the most enlightened and liberal of all the Mexican public men, was a safe guest m my house for over four months, during the whole of which time my resi dence was watched by government police spies, to bear him to prison or to execution if he ventured beyond my door. When General Blanco reached Mexico with three thousand men to attack the city, it was to me in Tacubaya that he committed his military chest while the battle was going on, as the known, tried and trusted friend of the Liberal cause. It was to my notorious sympathy for the Liberal party that I was indebted, for the hostility and hatred of the Zuloaga government, resulting at la£t in forcing me to break off my relations with it. So far from being “obnoxious to the Constitu tional party,” that party has reason to feel, and does feel, under thelgreatest obligations to me for the services it was happily in my power to render it. But this is not the worst of this affair. The President who authorises this charge against me, faas been resisting my earnest entreaties and argu ments for more than a year past to recognise this 1 very Liberal government to which he declares that : lam “obnoxious.” The Liberal leaders all over Mexico knew of my persistent efforts to induce Mr. 1 Buchanan to recognise and aid them, and it is be { who stands in Mexico “obnoxious” to }be charge { he makes against me. 1 The manifesto of the organ is all gammon. The t reasons given are false per se t and not the genuine <= ones for Mr. Buchanans course. What the true reasons are, I have never been able to define. I i have tried to find out from the President him- t self, and to that end I addressed him the follow- i mg letter, which, when penned, I never dreamed t would be put in print. I make no apology for ( publishing it now. While no impartial man can t read the history and believe that I have been i treated with “kindness and consideration,” if he \ can discover the clue to Mr. Buchanan’s extraordi- i narv conduct, he will do what I have not been ( able to do to this hour. New York, March 14, 1859. * Sir: Your course towards me with reference to * the Mexican mission has been so strange and equi- ' vocal, that I feel it due to you and necessary to * my own future guidance, at least to give you an j opportunity of elucidating what is to me a pro- ■ found mystery. I do not know how far a Presi- i dent of the United States may feel it to be infra j dignitatem to reply to such a letter as I am about ' to address to you, nor do I claim any right to an 1 eclaircissement , speaking, of the 1 mystery which perplexes me. While for your ' executive actions you are most certainly not* 1 amenable to me, I may write to you as one gen- ' tleman of the Democratic party to another, and your silence will be an answer sufficiently eloquent j to be taken as an acquiescence in the correctness of the light in which your course presents itself to ray mind. As you have two more years of Presidential service, and my profession as a journalist will bring me m constant communica tion with the public, it is desirable that my re lations with you should be distinctly defined ; for while I would do you no injustice through a mis apprehension of the truth, vet if the truth be as 1 now believe, I cannot dissemble. Whether or not you see fit to relieve or to confirm my impres sions by an answer to this letter, my object will have been gained in making my course and my conscience clear. I shall be frank, and as brief as possible. Ever since your inauguration my friends in the United States have constantly warned me that you were anxious to remove me from the Mexican Mission, and to be on my guard and prepare for such a step whenever the slightest opening for it should offer. At the same time justice obliges ‘ me to say, that whenever I heard from friends who bad had direct communication with you on 1 the subject, they always reported, with one excep ‘ tion, that you your satisfaction at my course, and that you had iio thought of recalling 1 me. That exception was at the moment of Sena tor Benjamin’s charges against me, and when you ’ were not yet in possession of mj defense. In that ’ case you were reported to have said that you r “were not prepared to say that I had done right.” With Mr. Benjamin’s ex parte statement before ) you, I had no right to be surprised at this. In the meantime, too, the Department of State had, in [ its public dispatches, fully committed your Admin -5 ietration to an approval of all my steps as Minis ’ ter, while Gen. Cass, in his private communica \ tions, was warm and emphatic, even flattering in r his commendation of ray course. And, finally, * you did me the honor to depart somewhat from *. usage, and to commend mv official conduct as marked by “zeal and ability,” in your annual mes -1 sage to Congress. [ If you will give yourself the trouble to read a . dispatch I addressed to the Department after re i ceiving your instructions to “withdraw the legation from Mexico,” you will find an account of the im l pressions made by those instructions on the states t men of the Zuloaga government.. These gentle . men, fully possessed of the idea of my friends In wBRsSS&R $ »r u 4mm J ‘ .a*ter OMirt vow “withiirawal t of the ‘gallon,” aijd your dispatch of a ship of war t to take me borne, were but jo many parts of a . solemn farce, meaning nothing of the least conse , quence to the American interests of the Zuloaga government, but having for their sole object, to j dispose of the person of the then Americau minis r ter—and they said, the unanswerable proof that , President Buchanan intends nothing' more than I this, and only affects to be offended with us, is that, 1 white he has called home the American minister, , he has retained the Mexican minister at Wasliing , ton. And in triumph they published in their of ' ficial journals that most extraordinary correspon f dence between General Cass and General Robles, on the occasion of the temporary leave taking of the latter. I complained of the last act to General , Cass, and I received from him a long but far from j satisfactory explanation. There was no explana , lion to be made. The effect was simply to make [ me ridiculous, and to aggravate the difficulty of the most trying position 1 then occupied before the Mexican public; while the fact convicted you in I the minds of Mexican statesmen of trifling and bad faith towards me. And now, I beg to ask, if I ’ have not now a right to believe—what I rejected ’ then—that the people in the Mexican palace were , most astute in their conjectures, sound in their reasoning, and right in their conclusions? With the lights before me, lam unable to doubt it. If I am wrong, you alone can put me right. I knew perfectly well, Mr. President, when I . took my position of non-intercourse with the Zu . loaga Government, that I was putting my official i head on the block ; but you must pardon me for not believing that under the circumstances, you • were capable of chopping it off’. I had had the fullest warning of the risk, and was perfectly aware that the time to test the premonitions ofmyfriends , had come. I was not obliged to lay my head there, I might have shirked the responsibility and writ ten home for instructions. But I thought it my ■ duty, and I took the step boldly and without hesita tion. You did not leave me long msuspense. In an instant you decided my fate. In hot haste you sent a courier to me—so much so that the Secre tary of State had to apologise for lack of ti me to read and to answer in full my despatches. With out a throb of compunction or a generous misgiv ing you ordered the axe to fall, and thus immolated me upon the very altar of my public duty and of my Fersonal trust in your justice and magnanimity. read all this clearly in the dispatches Drought to me by Capt. Henry and in the accompanying cir cumstances. The Mexicans were right, my Ameri can friends were right, the American newspapers were all right. Smarting under the consciousness of the wrong you had done my reputation before Mexico and my own country, in a private letter to Gen. Cass, I frankly stated the case and claimed it as my due that, whenever the relations with Mexico which had been broken off upon an issue made by me and approved by you, were renewed, I should be sent back. And’ to make this act of justice (and of policy too) as easy to you as possi ble—not to be in your way—if, as I believed, you wished to bestow the mission elsewhere, I said, if you will give me this necessary endorsement to falsify the accusations of my enemies that I have not possessed your|contidence, I will, after a brief period, resign the post into your hands. Arrived at Mobile, with no intention to go to Washington, : you called me there by telegraph. In Washington ; I renewed the subject to you—you engaged to take it into “just and calm consideration.” As often as respect for your position would allow, I pressed 1 you for an answer. You always politely evaded it i and kept me dangling in the Capital for two I months in an awkward and false position before the country, until finally in despair of getting from < you a definite “yes” or “no,” I was forced to re- 1 lieve myself from an intoleradle embarrassment by a resignation. For the purpose of giving you i the opportunity which I supposed you desired, of ] nominating my successor to the then Senate, I i fixed my resignation for the fid of March. I was ] right here too. t I now come to the strangest part of this story, t and the means adopted in it, are so immensely out j of proportion to the apparent magnitude of the a end they seemed designed to secure, that I am filled with wonder and curiosity to comprehend it. 1 In July were dated your instructions to with- a draw the legation. In the latter part of Septem- a her came the ship of war to take me home. In t October I sailed, and in November reached Mobile, c In December I arrived in Washington by your a orders. In February I resigned. All these events t occupied a space of nearly eight months. At the end of these eight months, you did not possess one v important fact in relation to Mexican situation, I which you did not have in the beginning. There t had occurred no material change in the condition i of affairs as I described them to you. The return of the Minister under such gTave circumstances c naturally led the world to believe that yon meant < to follow up the “withdrawal” by some striking action. Well, sir, during these whole eight months t< —most critical oues fur American influence in Mex- y ico—our relations there have been left in complete 1 abeyance. Nothing has been done beyond your i recommendations to Congress, and thi3, although the whole country was crying aloud for action, and t our countrymen and the Liberals in Mexico were a earnestly imploring it. Strange to say, the mo- 1 ment of awakening from this long tit of di- plomatic inactivity is the very moment when t my resignation took effect. Was that acci- | dental ? Was there any new light cast upon the ; Mexican question, after my resignation which did not stream fully upon it before? It cannot be averred. conclusion upon my mind is there fore irresistible, that your policy of inaction was adopted for and designed to be limited by, my offi cial connection with the mission. The spell was broken with my resignation. Your Mexican policy was kept in a state of suspended animation, and all our great interests were neglected for three fourths of a year, for no better purpose than to get rid of a Minister, who, according to your public and official declarations, had faithfully done his duty, and who, trustingly, gave you an opportu nity of getting rid of him by bravely doing that duty. If you, in your message, and the Secretary of State in his dispatches, were sincere and truthful in your declarations that I had performed my “duty with zeal and ability,” you were in justice and honor bound to restore me to a position I had lost by zealously doing that duty. You have reso lutely refused to do this, and thus, as I conceive, deliberately used your power and position, as the President, to do me a great wrong as a man and a public officer. What powerful motives have oper ated upon you, lamat a loss to conceive. It can not be on account of my attitude with reference to your nomination in the Cincinnati Convention, be cause my position there was precisely that of the highly respectable and able gentleman you have named to succeed me. Have I powerlul enemies, whose demands for my sacrifice you were unable to withstand? Havel inherited your dislike for my father ? Or is it my school of Southern Rights politics that is distasteful to you ? I repeat, you alone a,i* e competent to solve the problem. If you can do jUt satisfactorily, I shall be sincerely glad; for, white I will not patiently brook deliberate wrong or affect friendship for a Democratic Presi dent who has committed it, I am far from being exigent with my friends. 1 have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant, John Forsyth. To his Excellency, James Buchanan, Washington. After a few days, Mr. Buchanan returned this letter to me under cover of his own superscription and frank, with these words endorsed on it: “Dis respectful, ungrateful, and absurdly unfounded.” Not choosing to accept such a reply, I rejoined in the following: 1 New York, March 20th, 1559. Sir: You endorse my return letter of the 14th ‘ instant—“ Disrespectful, ungrateful and absurdly ‘ unfounded.” You must pardon me for declining 1 to accept this as a just judgment upon its merits. But being so in your opinion, I marvel that you 1 did not think it worth your while to give some i reason in support of it, against the strong array of ’ facts and circumstances upon wbich the contrary conclusions of that letter were based. l J meant not to be “disrespectful,” because I • know too well what is due to your position. I only i stated what I verily believed to be the honest truth, ■ and in language as mild and courteous as was con* sistent with its distinct enunciation. I do not know what your charge of “ ingrati l tude” rests upon; 1 did my duty as the Minister' , of my country in wnd you have acknowl edged it, Unafart£e extent of my obligation i jot. Sou Uar.ny expeoi me i-> be "grateful” t being removed from a mission which you did not i bestow upon me, and under circumstances which - you knew were wounding to my feelings, and, in t my belief, prejudicial to my reputation. ) I Ihink an account might be stated between ns that would throw the balance of obligation against t you. Twenty years of my life hare been devoted i to active labor in behalf of the unity and success , of the Democratic cause—to the sacrifice of private , fortune, the material interests of my family, and ■ more than once to the peril of my life. I know of - no living gentleman wuo has reaped so abnndant ■ ly of the truits of Democratic unity in the South, , as the present President of the United States, f Your predecessor thought my services, supported I by a good character, were worthy of acknowledge i uient, and, unsolicited, sent me to Mexico. You - requite them by displacing me in the middle of a i term of service. f Xoi is my letter “abruptly unfounded.” If it i contained mi/ opinions alone, it might lay me open i to the suspicion of a chafed and angry view of the 1 case. Hut I was the last of all the world to adopt 1 them. My friends believed and predicted to me all I that my letter contains long before it became clear ; to my own vision. I really thought they were do r ing you injustice, and defended you. 1 did not 1 heed the newspaper writers, who all the while in f sisted upon the same tbrng. Indeed, it is not pos sible to predicate a rational solution of your course [ upon any other hypothesis than that of a strong . desire and predetermined purpose to get rid of | me. All my friends in Washington, and at the . South, believe it—in fact, the entire public believes , it. How, then, can my statements be “abruptly , unfounded ?” , 1 regret you have not thought it worth your i while to disabuse my mind of its impressions, if they are erroneous. So placed that i have noth ing to expect from your administration, and could not accept anything from it, if I had, I may ex pect this regret in a disinterested spirit. I should much prefer to be able to give the Democratic President a cordial and confident support than to go on my way under existing impressions, and if it had been your pleasure to show me I bad done you wrong, nothing would have given me more satisfaction than to hare asked your pardon for my misconceptions of your conduct ana character. You have not chosen to do this, and I hare not chosen to suffer you to rest under the belief that I do not comprehend the true nature of your con duct towards me. I have the honor to be the President’s obedient servant, John Forsyth. To His Excellency James Buchanan. This letter was neither returned nor answered. I must say that I never thought either letter was answerable. It is not possible for him to give any friendly reason to me why he did not give me the endorsement of my official conduct, which was all I asked of him, upon my promise to resign mv office as soon as I received it. It is absurd to al lege, at this late day, mistakes on my part as a reason for not sending me back—first, because I did not ask to be sent back; and second, because this excuse is a palpable afterthought. I put it to the sense of the public, whether such a pretense is not preposlerous on the part of the Administra tion, when its Secretary of State wrote to me in the strain of the following extracts, in July, 1857. In a private letter Gen. Cass wrote: “I told the President some days since that I would write to you and assure you that you are in his full confidence and that of his Cabinet, and he desired me to convey to you the strongest assurances to that effect.” Again, upon sending me a project for a treaty of cession of territory, Gen. Cass, also in a private note, wrote: “The dispatch of this date from the Department will confide to you a great trust. » * * I know how difficult is the task before you; we all know it well, and are not over sanguine of succeßS. If you succeed, it will be a source of great satisfac tion to us; and if you do not, we shall not impute the smallest blame to you, well satisfied that what you could not effect, could not be effected under any circumstances.” I remark that this “difficult task” was nothing less than to buy a large slice of Mexico, at a price about one-fourth, of what the Mexicans valued it at. I worked hard out the hard bargain, but the Mexicans were too cunning to take the contemptible offer, and Mr. Buchandn wouldn’t allow me to increase the bid. After it was all over, the department wrote me: “Your despatches relating to the negotiations which you proposed to the government of Mexico, having been laid before the President, I have to express to you his satisfaction with the manner in which you performed that delicate duty.” And, finally, when I was about to leave the country, and the Administration had mv whole course before it, Gen. Cass wrote me. VOL. 38-IN O. 20. ‘‘^ t . was deemed proper to send a vessel of vrai to bring you, as a public manifestation of the re gard ot the government for your firm and truly American conduct, under the critical circumstances in which you were placed.' 1 S “j )mit » a^tei : thia, if it is not a little late for the Administration to aver that it found fault with any part of my conduct as its minister to Mexico? i cannot, in justice, close this communication, without thus publicly offering the tribute of my thanks and admiration for the frank, kind anci generous deportment, of the venerable Secretary of fttate, in all his public and private correspondence and personal intercourse with me. I feel a perfect assurance that, had his voice been potential in the \V hite House, I should not now have to write of those idiosyncrasies of character, which are dis coverable sooner or later to all who have dealings with James Buchanan. If, as the organ deolares, I had other friends in the cabinet besides General Cass, I am very sure I never seen the first evidence of it. In the absence of such proof, and in the presence of their conduct towards me, I do not believe a word of it. I do not think that cabinet is friendly to any man of my political complexion. If I had chosen to rally the influence of my southern political friends in Washington, and ‘protested through them against superseding me for doing my duty, I knew that the Government would not have dared to do it. My friends offered me their services, and warned me that that was the only way to deal with the “sage of Wheatland.” I declined their offers peremptorily, avermg that, as I was appointed to Mexico, without as much as a hint, in the way of : asking for it, and without the importunity of my friends, I would not be indebted to such means for going back. I left my case to the unbiased justice and judgment of the President and cabinet. I have i found out the value of the reliance. And now, to avoid misconstructions, let it not i be imagined that I hold Mr. Buchanan to be the ! Democratic party, and that, in losing my confi , dence in him I have lost my fealty to my party, or 5 my abiding attachment to its principles. I may * be a good Democrat, and not think very well of s him. I should be no Democrat at all were Ito i endorse all the measures and shortcomings of hi 3 i administration. John Forsytii. » Mobile, May 1, 1859. * From the Cleveland Review. > Incident m the Life of an Engineer* In returning from Philadelphia about the mid r die of August, 1858, the cars were very crowded and my companion in the same seat with me I • found but to be a locomotive engineer, and in the s course of our conversation, he made the remark, i he hoped he had run his last trip upon a locomo * tive. ' Upon making bold to ask him his reasons, he 1 gave me the following story, which since then I have found out to be strictly true: Five years since I was running upon the New j York Central railroad. My run was from B to 7 R . It was the lightning express train, and r it was what its name denotes, for* it was fast—a , very fast run, and if I do say it, the old Tornado j could go. I have seen her throw her six foot dri -2 vers so as to be almost invisible to the eye. And f let me here remark, it is supposed bv many that j railroad engineers are a hard-heartetf set of men. Their lives are hard, ’tis true, but I do claim to [ have as fine a feeling, and a heart that can sym -7 pathise with the unfortunate, as any part that breathes. But to my story. ! About half a mile from* the village of B , there is a nice little cottage, but a few feet from . the track. At that time a young, married couple •• lived there. They had one child, a little boy about , was sore to see him peeping throngh the fence i when my train passed. One line sunny 'afternoon we .behind time i and running fast, nor did we atop at H 1 was to make np one hour before reaching R . ! We came up at a tremendous speed, and when ; sweeping around the curve, my eye following the ! track, not over two hundred feet ahead sat the lit tle fellow ploying with a kitten which he held ib ■ his lap. At the sound of our approach he looked . up and laughed, clapping his little hands in high glee ot the affrighted kitten as it ran from the track. Quicker than the lightning that blasts thfe 1 tall pine upon the mountain top, I whistled “down . brakes,” and reversed my engine, but knew it wgs i impossible to stop. Nobly did that old engine trV i te save him. The awfnl|straining and writhing of its iron drivers told but too plainly of the ter t rifle velocity we had attained. I was ont of the \ cab window and down on the cow-catcher in a , flash. The little fellow stood still; X motioned t him off and shouted; his little blue eyes opened j wide with astonishment, and a merry laugh was r upon his lips. I held ray breath as we rushed . upon him, made a desperate attempt to catch him, t but, missed, and as his little body passed, 1 . heard the feeble cry of “mother!” and the forward _ trucks crushed his body to atoms. e 0 God! that moment! I may live, sir, to be an f old man, but the agony of that moment can never f be erased from my memory. The cars stopped , some rods from the spot, and I ran back as soon as , possible. His mother saw the train stop, and a r fearful foreboding flashed upon her at once. She came rushing frantically to the spot where vfe • stood. Never shall I forget the look she gave me f as she beheld her first born a shapeless mass. 1 1 . would have given my whole existence to have I avoided that moment 1 I have seen death in all Me forms on railroads; and killed—l have seen all [ this, but that little innocent boy! as he looked up in my face, and was killed almost in my arms—ft unnerved me, and from that day X made a solemn vow never to ran a locomotive more. That young mother is now in the Utica Lunatic Asylum. From the hour her boy was killed reason had left her throne. '< He stopped, and wiped the tears from his eyes, and said, “You may think it weak in me to shed tears, but I cannot help it.” “No,” I replied, “but think it noble; and, sir, would to God every man had a heart as large as yours.” I have often thought'since how few those who give one passing thought of the man of strofig nerve and slout arm, who guides them througt darkness and storms, with the speed of the wittd, safely to their journey’s end. They do not sor 1 a moment turn their attention to the iron monstei that is dragging them forward with fearful veloci ty to meet friends or relations, or home and all Its loved ones. They do not realise that the man who guides the fiery monster, holds all their precious lives at his command, and that the least negligence upon his part could cause sorrow and mourning in a thousand homes that are now waiting the retdrn of absent loved ones. B. B. Hi The Drouth is the Tropics.— The past seashn has been as remarkable for drouth in the tropics as for an unusual precipitation in the northern temperate portions of this continent. A letter writer who has spent the winter in the West Indies and South America, says: Never before have tne rivers been known to-be so low, arid the effect upon the crops, as it does, af ter unusually heavy rains in the wet season, has been in many places disastrous. And it is currijus that the drouth has been more severe as you ap proach the southernmost line. In the islandjof f’orto Rico, the coffee and tobacco crops will (be very light, while in the southern States of the neighboring Republic of Mexico the same coin plaints are made. It remains now to be seen what effect this irregularity of the seasons will have up on the health of these countries. Columbus {Oa.) Times, May .x * Weights and Measures.—A friend writes us from New York, that he has closed,a contract with Mr. John W. Kissam, of tbatc\ty,to manufacture, by direction of Gov. Joseph E. Brown, one hun dred and forty setts of standard weights and mea sures for the State of Georgia, to supply some of the old, and all the new counties created since 1841, under an act of the last legislature. They are to be delivered at Savannah in four months. This is all right. Every county should have' a standard of weights and measures, by which all should be governed,— Atlanta Intelligencer, otHtift. The Bark Angrlita.—ln the Court of Admiral ty, yesterday. Judge Nicol presiding, the libel case of the bark Angelita was argued. The case was dismissed, and the bark given up to her owners. Savannah Morning News, May 6.