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Possessed so dread terrors for me!
Hilt alas.' those blest days are forever no more]
And mourning and sorrow now reign;
The savage, iu wrath, has invaded our home?
And dear Charles has been raptured and slain ?
No more shall we sport on the banks of the stream,
Or waik, hand iu band, through the grove ;
lie has gone to his rest, iu those regions a far.
Where dwells naught save quiet and level
•‘Ellenor died while yet in her seventeenth year,
and was buried iu a spot selected by herself, near
a large oak tree by the house, under whose shades
i»he used often to sport with her dear brother, and
where, iu the summer hours, when deprived of
Tiis presence, she had frequently resorted for con
templation and study.
“The, parents were now left entirely alone, -and
w ith few iudneemets to make even life itself de
sirable. Their only daughter had .died in autumn,
and a freezing and dreary w inter w as at hand.”
“It was a severe, o<*!d night is the month of
December, and the moon shone upon the snow
bright ami full almost as the sun itself, when two
men were seen approaching the dwelling of this
lonely settler. They walked up to the house and
asked admittanve. Supposing them to be Indians
belonging to some friendly tribe near by, who
w ished to warm and rest themselves, they were
without hesitancy permitted to enter.”
“ ‘Cold weather this, old man,’ said the eldest
of the two «trangers, who was at once observed to
be an Indian, addressing the hunter as they seated
themselves by the fire.
‘■“Yes,’ was the reply,-—‘and have you far to
walk this cold night ?’
“ ‘I have come,’ said the Indian, ‘to fulfil my
promise, made to you a long time since. You
w ill recollect— ’
‘“What! my son! and does he lire V asked the
old man, with much emotion.
“•He lives!—behold him there, before you!’
“Without waiting for the answer, the aged par
ent, recognizing in the, till then, supposed Indian,
his own son, had embraced liitn, neither being able,
sj overwhelmed with joy w ere they, to utter a
syllable; and the mother, feeble -at witnessing
sj unexpected an event, had fainted anil (alien to
the floor. She soon, however, revived and was
permitted onoe more to clasp in her arms the son,
whom she had ionsr believed dead, anil soon ex
pected to meet in Heaven. It was a scene, in
deed, which can much better be imagined than
described.
“You will judge what w ere the feelings of
Charles on learning the death of his sister.
••But the cause of this long delay m the return
of the Indian, was now to be explained. Il may
he done in few words.
“ii i overtook iiis party in a short time, after re
covering from his wounds, and found them mour
ning and almost distracted with grief, for in the
contest with tiie hunter they had lost their chief
and several others of their most daring warriors;
anti tht*y were just preparing to feed their revenge
by torturing to death with every cruel means
which their savage and blood-thirsty hearts could
invent, their captive buy. but happily he hail
at rived in time to save him, though it had been
utierly out ff his power to return him to his pa
x ut< before. They continued their march into
the western wilderness, where they were finally
* 1 rj-n .in f,n ai-Munl nf a war w Inch .soon
broke out between their own and several other
hostile tribes of Indians, and lasted for nearly the
whole time tliat had elapsed since they left the
banks of the Androscoggin.
“Charles had not forgotten his parents, though
he had become habituated to the usages, customs
and hardships of his savage comrades, and w ore,
indeed, the resemblance of an Indian, He now,
with his preserver, whom he would not permit to
Icav ohim,live !wi ll his parents and sup; or ed them
until, worn out with age and sorrow, they both, in
the course of two years, were laid iu their graves
nearly at the same time,
“Charles Eaton, (for that was his name,) had now
but oue friend iu the world-.-his Indian protector
and preserver. They lived and wandered togeth
for many years, obtaining their living, as they were
taught to do, in the wilderness, until at length the
poor Indian was taken suddenly ill and died, leav
ing Charles entirely friendless and without a home,
“Charles lived now, not because it was his own
pleasure, but because it was the w ill of heaven
that he should live. He for a time sought to
make hiulself happy in society ; but the noisy and
cold-hearted world possessed no charms for him,
lie sought the mountains, w here he discovered a
rave in which he entered and at once declared it
his home while life remained. He has thus far
kepi his'word, and,” said the old man, springing
from bis seat with the activity of a boy, “ Charles
Eaton is the man, who lias just saved you, my
young friend, from the awful pangs of death !”
1 cannot describe my surprise on hearing this
announcement, reining upon me, as it did, so sud
denly. Ihwl iu fact become so interested in the
old man’s story, that 1 had even forgotten ihe situ
ation in which 1 was placed.
We now sought rest from sleep ; but little did 1
obtain. I however by the morning found myself
sufficiently recruited to venture to return to tlie
dwelling at the loot of the mountain and from
thence home, which 1 did. after first having been
directed to the right path by my own kind preser
ver—the Indian Captive!
GO TO CHURCH.
There is no one thing which helps to establish a
man’s standing in society, more than a steady at
tendance at church, and a proper regard for the
first day of the week. Every head of a family
should go to church, as an example to its mem
bers; and every branch of a family should go to
church, iu imitation of the example of parents
who loved them aud watched over their best in
terest. Lounging iu streets and bar rooms on the
Sabbath is abominable, and deserves execration :
because it lays the foundation of habits which ruin
one—-body and soul. Many a young man can
date the commencement of a course of dissipa
tion which made him a burthen to himself and
■friends, and an object of pity in the sight of his
enemies, to his Sunday debauchery. Idleness is
■the mother of drunkenness—the Sabbath is, to
young people, generally an idle day; therefore if
it be not properly kept, it were better struck out
of existence.
Go to Church. —ls you are a young man just
entered into business, it will establish your credit
—what capitalists would not sooner trust anew
beginner, who, instead of dissipating his time, his
character and his money iu dissolute company, at
tended to his business on business days, and on
the Sabbath appeared in the house of his God,—
Go to Church with a contrite heart, and bending
. a knea at the throne of your Maker, pour out a
sincere thank offering for the past week.
GitoCnurch ladies, and remember that reli
£') i ujjt and lorns the fe’n.de character.
i
The Friendless.—h is remarkable how a sin
gle word, unaffectedly ■uttered will sometimes re
veal to us, more fully aud strikingly than could
many books, the deep aud long experience of a hu
man heart. Not king ago, a friend of ours invi
ted a small party of orphan children from an asy
lum, to spend an hour of a Wednesday afternoon
at his house, (in Boston ) They manifested, each
iu the way that Nature prompted or education al
lowed, the most eager delight. It was evidently a
rich treat to th*nu in their lonely state. It would
have done any body’s heart good to see and hear
them.
As he was distributing amongst them the con
teutsofa basket of oranges, he chanced to hear
oue of the little girls say to a companion who was
sitting at her side, “I know why Mr.- has invi
ted us to bit house—it is because we haven’t any
f lends. J haven't had a friend come lo sec me for
jive i/rars."
Merciful heaven ! Only twelve years old, and
not have seen the face of a lrieud for five long
years !
\Yc have heard many a sad tale of orphanage,
and felt sympathy for the friendless ibetore, but
we never heard words that went directly to the
heart like these—that made so palpable the drea
riness of the long days and nights that heavily
follow one another, unenlivened by a single smile
orkindiv tone of one living being with whom the
homeless can claim kindred.. We thought, too,
that we knew, of old, something ol the value of
our friends, and estimated, not altogether too
lightly, their joyous and assuaging influence up
on the pulses oi the sou!, but never did our heart
involuntary seek to bind them to itself with such
a tenacious embrace, as since, the simple words of
the poor orphan girl have given to us oue slight
and inadequate impression of her unutterable and
melancholy experience.
No wonder that God from his secret throne has
sent out so many kindly messages and sacred prom
ises of love to the solitary and forsaken, the pa
renth ■, and the widow; for, O how much do they
need the.sympathy of J leaven, who have no friends
on ea th ! aud how pleasant to the angels ot con
solation to pay their unobtrusive aud peace-ladeu
vis ts to the children of loneliness and sorrow.
Would it not repay us richly, ay, a thousand
fold, if we would open our doors more frequently
to those who have no home, and distribute our
kindly sympathies, which are, indeed, the bread
of life, more freely to those who hunger and thirst
for words of friendship an<\ looks ot affection aud
tenderness.— Christian Register.
Deacon Slow. —Deacon Slow had three sons
—it is unnecessary to mention his daughter—
who were, as Deacou’s sons are apt to be—the
deuce can only tell why—very rougish. They
were in tiie habit of poking fun at an old rain,
who endeavored to have his share of the sport,
by butting them over, a sort of fun which lie mteu
manifested a disposition to piay olfon the Deacon,
as he marched dowu to salt the flock—for these
were dutiesto which he paid strict attention, as he
was exceedingly humane, except >vhen he was
very wroth, on which occasion his anger would
burn like a furnace seven times heated. Now
the Deacon’* sheep pasture was on the Shaw
sheen river, which is narrow, but deep, anil the
pasture terminates in a precipice which rose fii
teen feet above the w aterand shelved over if, ns a
beetle browed house hangs over a narrow street;
aud the boys v. ho had exhausted all other fun up
on the ram, were in the habitofsquating upon the
edge of the precipice and darting a hat at him,
upon which he would come with blind fury there
at. The boy who held the hat, could easily leap
aside, and the exasperated ram was quickly cool
ed by a plunge headlong down the precipice into
the stream.—At this trick they were one day
caught by the Deacon their father, who took
them into a thicket close by, and anointed their
hacks ‘.hoiough’y with the oil of bhbe—-an e .eel
lent application in such cases, made and provided.
It is not always effectual however, audio this case
the disease was not cured, as the hoy* were a few
days after waiting round the place in order to re
peat the joke on the unsuspecting aud innocent
ram ; but on beholding their father at a distance,
coming with his basket of salt, they hid in the
thicket which they had so good reason to remem
ber. Slowly came Deacon Solomon Slow, and
after lie had scattered his salt, he stood upright
aiid thought within himself, that it would be a
musing to see the ram bolt over tiie precipice in
to the river. He saw uo one nigh—how should
he, when the boys w ere hid in the bushes ! and
taking off lus broad brimcil liat, he made demon
stations which at once attracted the attention of
the lord of the flock, who set out as usual in full
speed. The "Deacon hadsquatted close to the edge
—and as he saw the ram bounding along, he pic
tured out to his fancy, tiie silly (iguie the sheep
would cut, bounding with a splash into tlie water
—life began to smilei—the ram at last came dose,
fierce on the charge, more enraged as the hat was
larger than common—the Deacon grinned out
right, but in the midst of his delight at the rani’s
ridiculous appearance he forgot to jump aside,
and the beast butted him over with a splash into
the water where he intended the silly sheep should
have gone. The boys ran out clapping their
hands and shouting “you have got it dad,” in all
the exstacy pf revenge, lie was afterwards called
Deacon Solemn by Ills neighbors, among w hom
he lived and died at a venerable old age.
A Lady's Portrait of Herself. —Perhaps uo la
dy was ever better reconciled to positive ugliness
m her own person than the Duchess of Orleans,
the mother of the Regent d’Orleans, w ho govern
ed France during the minority of Louis the fif
teenth. Thus she speaks of her own appear
ance and manners:—
“From my earliest youth I was aware how or
dinary my appearance was, and did not like that
people should look at me attentively. I never
paid any attention to dress, because dress, and dia
monds were sure to attract attention.—On great
days my husband used to make me rouge, which
I did greatly against my will, as I hate every thing
that incommodes me. One day,] made the Countess
of Soissons laugh heartily. She asked me why I
never turned my head whenever 1 passed before a
mirror—every body else did. I answered because
I had too much self love to bear (he sight o£ my
own ugliness! 1 must have been very ugly in
my youth. I had no sort of features, with iittle
twinkling eyes, a short snub noes, long thick lips,
the whole of my physiognomy was far from attrac
tive. Mv face was long with fat cheeks, and my
figure was slioit and stumpy ;in short I was a ve
ry homely sort of person. Except for the good
ness of my disposition, no one w ould have endur
ed me. It was impossible to discover any thing
like intelligence in uiy eyes, except with a micro
scope. Perhaps there was not on the face of the
earth, such another pair of ugly hands as mine.
The king often told me so. ami set me laughing
the GEORGIA MIRROR.
about it, (hr as I was quite sure of being very
indy, J wade up **y niind to be always the first
fcTlaugli M it. This succeeded very well tho’l
must coiiess it furnished me with a good stock.nl
materials for laughter.”
Odd Change. —There is great difficulty ex
perienced in these days of shinplasters, in mak
ing change, but we have heard of two recent in
stances, where ingenuity was put iu successful
requisition to obviate the necessity of change.
A rude fellow, while before the police magistrate
for some nocturnal misdemeanor, was fined nine
dollars for eighteen oaths, uttered in difiance of
official warning tliat each one would eost him filly
cents. He handed a ten dollar note to the justice
who was about returning the remaining one to the
delinquent. “No, no—keep the whole! I’ll swear
it out!” And lie proceeded to expend the bal
ance in as round aud condensed a valley of per
sonal denunciation, as bad ever saluted the ears of
the legal functionary. He then retired content.
Something similar was the change given oue
of our hack drivers, by a jolly tar, who was en
joying a sail in a carriage in Broadway. A mad
bull, “with his spanker rigged right straight out
abaft,” or some other animal, going at the rate;of
fourteen knots an hour, in the street attracted
Jack’s attention as he rode along and unable to
let the large plate glass window down, he broke it
to atoms that he might thrust forth his head.
“A dollar and a half for that,” says Jehu.
• ‘Vot of it—here’s the blunt,” replied the sailor,
banding a three dollar note to the driver.
“I can’t change it,” said he.
“Well nevermind,” rejoined,” the tar, “this’ll
make it right.”
The sudden crash of the other w indow told the
driver in what way the change had been made.
Kn ickerbocker.
The Human Panther. —The Peoria Register—
a paper which frequently instructs and amuses us
with anecdotes connected with the settlement of
the western country, furnishes us with the follow
ing sketch which, it says, was related by the gen
tlemen of great respectability, living uear the spot
where the circumstances occurred:—
In the latter part of that conflict, whichspread
dismay throughout this part of the State, there
were about nine hundred Indians encamped on
the Illinois, river, opposite the present town site
of LaSalle, composed principally of the Iroquois
tribe. They had always maintained a friendly in -
tercourse with the whites in the vicinity, and had
manifested a great partiality for oue in particular.
This was '■‘•old Myers," a perfect prototype of
Couper’s trapper. This stats was the fifth in
which he had erected his hut in advance of a
white population. He had of course acquired
more of the habits of the. Indians than of civilized
meh, and was familiarly known among them as
“The Panther”—a title which lie had acquired
from them, hy a daring exploit iu killing an ani
mal of that name, when leading them in one of
their wild hunts. At the period referred 10, these
Indians rallied under the Black Hawk standard,
and were committing many depredations upon the
settlers in the vicinity. When repulsed, they
did not hesitate to wantonly murder their former
friends and companions. About the cabin of the
Panther, nearly a hundred settlers had come in
for the safety of their wives and children, placing
them under his protection. But among the vic
tims of savage barbarity, there happened to be a
brother-in-law of the Panther, with his wife and
three children. Herein they committed an un
pardonable outrage upon the family of their an
cient friend and detne-sayage. \Vhen the sad
tidings of their cruel fate reached the garrison,
the Panther was seen clothing himself in battle
array. With his rifle, his tomahawk and scalping
knife, in open day he silently bent his steps to the
Indian quarters, about one mile distant. Fear
lessly he marched into the midst of the savage
band, levelled his rifle at the head chief present,
and deliberately killed him on tho spot. He then
seven! the lifeless head from its trunk, and held
it up by the hair before the awe-struck multitude,
exclaiming. “Yon have murdered my brother,
his w ife, and their three little ones, and now I
have killed your chief. lam now even with you;
but,” he added, “every one of you that is found
here to-morrow morning at sunrise, is a dead In
dian.” All this was accomplished by the Panther
without the least molestation. They knew that
he wautii take vengeance for their deed of blood ;
and silently acknowledged the justice of the daring
act. He then bore off the head in triumph to
his cabin. Tiie next morning not an Indian could
be found in that region. They left forever their
homes and dead, and that part of the state has not
been molested by them since,
A few weeks since, this veteran of 80 winters
sold his claim, and caparisoned with the same hun
ting shift and weapons which he wore when he
killed the chief, started for Missouri. After trav
elling a few rods, he returned and asked permision
to give his “ grand yell." The gentleman to
whom lie had sold the land, giving his assent, he
gave a long, loud and shrill whoop, that made the
welkin ring for miles around. “Now,” said he,
“my blessing is on the land and you, your ground
will always yield an abundance, and you will al
ways prosper.” Again he took up his march for
anew home in tlje wilderness, where he could en
joy the happiness of solitude, undisturbed by social
ties.
BALTIMORE, Aug. 16.
Violent Tornado and loss of life. —The thun
der storm which passed over this city on .Saturday
afternoon, between five and six o’clock, was ac
companied by a copious shower of rsin, and also
by a violent gust or tornailo which occasioned the
loss ofseveral lives, besides doing injury in various,
places. The principal damage was sustained on
Donnell’s wharf, at the lower end of Thames
street. At this wharf was laying the Bremensliip
Sophie, just arrived with a large number of Ger
man emigrants, A number of these were making
active preparations for their departure for the West
and when the rain came on, about forty or fifty
took shelter in an adjacent large unfinished ware
house. The house not living.yet under roof, the
violence of the rain caused ail Intt nine persons
to seek refuge in the adjoining houses. They
had scarcely quitted the warehouse when the
w ind blew with furious violence, and in a moment
prostrated the building to the ground, burying
eight persons under the ruins. Os the latter
number, five immediately succeeded in extricating
themselves, though not without being considera
bly injured. Two others, a man a young woman
about nineteen years of ace, were soon after dug
out dreadfully bruised and quite dead.
A coloured man, a carter, was standing in the buil
ding, but seeing his horse grow restive at the sound
of the thunder, he ran towardshim but was caught
by the falling wall and had both his legs badly
broken, and his face and head severely cut.
The ninth person in the house was Mr. Joseph
Holt, a bricklayer, who had been engaged on the
building, lie was in the third story, and when
the house fell iie was thrown head foremost into a
large heap ol mortar. Although to this circum
stance may be attributed the preservation of his
life his eye sight is irretrievably ruined by t • lime.
The warehouse was owned by Messrs. Donnell
aud Lurnian. It was lOOleet long by 30 wide aud
three stories high The workmen commenced
the roof on Saturday and laid but three rows ot
slate. Its destruction was complete, the tornado
scarcely leaving oue brick upon another. Some
of the lumber was carried to the distance ol TOO
feet.
We learn that two small boy vessels were cap
sized at the time near Fort McHenry. The hands
on board of one escaped, hut a small boy was
crushed to death between some lumber. Iu the
cabin of the other vessel were a man and two boys
who were taken out uninjured, shortly after the
squall, by cutting a hole in the bosom of the ves
sel.
A part of the roof of the Philadelphia Rail
road bridge at Canton was blown oft, and also the
roof of the steam saw mill at Harris’ Creek. At
the Depot at Canton the walls of the car house,
which was burnt a few weeks ago, were blown and
some other trilling damage sustained.
Several sheds were unroofed at the ship yard of
Messrs Cooper aud Abrahams.
A part of the roof of a warehose on Ramsay's
wharf was blown off.
The ship General Smith, lying at Corner’s wbart
broke from her moorings and was blown so violent
ly against the wharf that she stove iu a portion ot
her bow and carried away a part ol Iter bulwarks.
Mr. Shaw the keeper ot the Lazaretto, who was
returning home at the time of the squall, was
together with his horse and carryall, blown over
a fence and bruised considerably
A part of the wall and roof of the large fish
storing houses ou the South side ol the basin was
blo'wu off.
From the Southern Recorder. '
We have been amused at the war levied by our
neighbor’s here, especially the Federal Union,
on tiie Banks. We have laughed most heartily at
their cry of aristocracy in connexion w ith them ;
and have never, so long as they confined their
warfare to denunciations ol the Rag Barons and
Rag money, thought proper to put in a word in
bar of their careei. if these papers were mad en
ough, to hold up their o'.vn trum is, and their par
ty leaders, as the aristocracy of the country, we
have thought it none ot our-busniess, however un
just we might suppose their course, to attempt to
prevent them from riding over th nr own jiohti
cal friends and associates. \\ e have, therefore,
silently suffered tl»eu» to make themselves hoarse
with their vociferations against tin* Bank aris
tocrats, supuosing that we might ’hardly eveu be
thanked by their friends, for defo.idmg tiiem from
such charges.
But when our neighbor ventures so far, as to
identify the objects of his denunciation as of the
State Rights party, that all the Bank aristocra
cy against which it hurls its denunciations, arc of
the party to which we are attached we must stop
the nonsense, by turning tiie tables upon our
neighbors—which we shall do. by showing if there
really be such a thing as bank aristocracy in Geor
gia, against which our neighbor so fiercely de
claims, that Bank aristocracy is of its own party
and our neighbors must come in for its full share
of its own denunciations. Now to the proof.
Who are the bank aristocracy of Georgia ? or,
in other words, to what political party do those
belong, who control the banking interestsofGeor
gia ? Let us place the banks, and the amount of
bank capital in Georgia paid in aud controlled by
<■ gentlemen of each party, as seen by their presi
ding head, side by side, aud then draw the bal
ance ;
Union Banks.
Bank oftiie State of Georgia, id. 503,000
Planters, Bank, 259,000
Central Railroad Batik. 504,757
Marine and Fire Insurance Bank, 400,()<)0
Darien Bank, 651,050
Augusta Bank, (Union or neutral) 1,209,000
Mechanics’ Bank, 1,000,000
Georgia Railroad and Banking
Company, 1,919,215
Western Bank, Rome, 119,750
Bank of Hawkiftsville, 200,000
Ocmulgee Bank, 150,000
Commercial Bank of Macon, 310,000
Forsyth Railroad Bank, 300,000
Planters and Mechanics’ Bank,
Columbus, 250,000
Insurance Bank, Columbus, (hitherto
and probably still Union.) 000,000
Total, 89,354,772
State Rights Banks
Bank of St. Mary’s, 59,290
Insurance and Banking Company,
Augusta, ■ 500.000
Bank of Milledgeville, 1 374.300
Bank of Columbus, * 400,000
Farmers Bank ofChattalioochic, 295,525
Total, $1,029,115
J!e c a r i t v nv n o 5 .
. . Union Bank*, 9,354.772
State Rights Banks, 1,029,115
Balance in favor of Union Brinks, $7,725,657
Hallo, neighbors, this looks bad. according to
your views ofthe subject; you seexu to have almost
all 'the aristocracy together ou your side—-up-
Wards of seven millions of capital in your favor !
The State Rights party seem to have but iittle
connection either with tiie rag money or the Rag
Baron aristocracy, lie seem to be very slightly
tinged with the disease ; your party have it in its
most virulent form. Our party sewn only to be
(lea bitten, as it were—a spot of the disease here,
and wide apart; your's seem to have it thick as the
prickly heat, all over, from the crown of the head
lothc sole ot the foot. \ c Bank Aristocrats, Ve
Rag Barons! what shall we do with vou ?
Your owm friends, our neighbors here, want to
scrape you, as it were, with a potshered, and as
they are your particular friends, it is not for us to
object to the prescription. But what shall we do ;
with the leader of our'Ueiglitior’s party in the Leg- !
islature, who is the aristocratic Baron, of one of !
the largest Rag Money machines in the .State ?
\V hat does our neighbor propose to do with him ?
Will he scrape him of his leprosv, or denounce
him with his party ? Come neighbor, consisten
cy you know is a jewel; wbat will you do in the
premises ?---We think we can hear our neighbor,
upon this view ofthe subject, clearlj exhibiting
lust party as the delinquents—we think we ktjj
him iu honest consistency w ith his late efforts, t‘ X .
claming, “Oh ye Aristocratic, Bank, Rag money
“Barons! Ye Union Democratic Republican
“shavers ; who have so long controlled the bati
“ing business ol the State. Ye have shaved lon<r
“enough and shall shave no louger. Ye V a J!
“Buren Jeffersonian, Anti-Abolition, shaving-sh uu
“Aristocrats ; ye have already shaVed so elcaif
“there is nothing left for the lazor! We corn’
“niaud you at least to stop your operations lor the
“present: we pray you at least to stop lon<r
“imugh to let the beard grow. By October,"the
“crop will be pretty thick —you may then, if y ou
“like, shave with a sickle, without molestation
“from us : but till then, we must in all good eou
“seienee denounce you. Ye Union Denioemtir
“Republican, Rag Baron Aristocrats! Ye Jeflt!
“ersonian. Van Buren, unconscionable shavers
“who have barbarously shorn the beards of our
“dearly beloved Democracy even without soap ’
“till next October the war is proclaimed, anj
“friends though ye be, till then wears determined
“to hold on to our beards, fearless of all conse
“queuces.”
What may be the consequences of such an in
dependent course, on the part of our neighbor
on the party concerned, and to which he is at
tached, we will not undertake to say; perhaps lts
only effect will be, the grow ing of beards, and the
saving of soap. Be that as it may, (to which w«
of course, are wholly indifferent;) wo nuist insist
that when our neighbor next wars upon the Rank
Aristocracy ol Georgia, that it will be fair ciiou di
to inform its rvad-.-rs, that if such a rank exists m
this State, it isconstituted principally, almost whol
ly, of the members of its own party ; wiih this
justice wc will he content, and w itli nothing less.
From the Peni sylrctiim Sentinel
The following is a graphic sketch of Mr. Van
Buren, who is juttiv styled.
“THE GREAT OVERRATED.
If any man cat earned a title Martin Van Bn,
reu richly deserves this. A small majority placed
him in the Presidential chair but that high station
he fills, instead of adding to his personal reputa
tion has only made his littleness more conspicu
ous. Circumstances and the influence of i arte
folly, with but slight personal merit, have raised
him t.i his present situation, lijs conduct (jefoni
and since his election to the Presidency shows
that his abilities have been overrated aodtliat it i.;
to tiie force of party organization he owes his ele,
vation. Though correctly described iikmy veaix
ago hy De Witt Uhntutias a political grimalkin,
mousing over petty schemes,” his subsidized
press, of which tiie Globe is the leader ascribed to
him the'lordly attributes ofthe lion and with a
boldness which appears ridiculous when his tint
character is considered praise the leader of their
partv for his inflexible firmness.
Mr. Van Huron was a!way* allowed to hr a
crafty man, but not a great one in the early year
ofkis life aud when his political efforts were con
fined to the State of New York lie never exhib
ited those marks of gonitis which characterizes a
statesman. Ills chief talent seemed to lie iu his
ability tosnuit tips points in wificlrilje public gaff
would blow,. He only approved of the last way
he saw that the voice of the nation w as decidedly
in its favor. The famous Erie (’anal which has
enriched New-York s<> wonderfully am) was omt
oftiie noblest projects ever conceived by a states
man Martin Van Buren opposed ii at its cummer,
cement, ami finally gave it a reluctant approval,
whe.il io have withhold ii his approbation, would
have covered him with a political disgrace.
When ine resigned iiisj saat in the Cabinet and
addressed a letter Jo Geu. Jackson, ostensibly
setting forth his reasons, the fulsome praise he
bestowed on his master by declaring that it was
glory enough for him to have served under such a
cheif betray id the principles ofthe man. It was
contemptible adulation, disgraceful to him as a
republican and reflected no credit on hissugacitv.
flic world could see through his base motives,
and all honest men despised the titickling sveo
paucy of an officer, who had held so responsible
a place in the councils ofthe nation.
la iiis instructions to oar Minister in England,
he showed a want of attention to the true dignity
ot the republic, and by ins humiliating directions,
cast a shadow on the escutclnon ot our national
honor, which it never received In-tbre. lie for
got w hat belonged to the statesman, aud in his
zeal to effect what ir* supposed would be a skil
ful political manoeuvre, lost sight of that respect
which every independent nation owes to itself.
But his conduct was not confirmed bv «be Senate,
when lnt was himself appointed as Minister, and
his recall from England was the consequence.
Supported however hy the influence and popuini
ity oft rencral Jackson he contrived to turn his
recall to his own benefit, and succeeded in reach
ing the seat of \ ice Dresident. From that lie was
by his party made the chief magistrate of the Na
tion, and assumed the reins of government.
When placed in a situation to direct the coun
cils ol the nation, an opportunity was afforded
Jitm for showing his ability and sagacity, by the
policy adopted by liis administration. Never had
any President more favorable citcuinstances for
making his administration popular. His friends
anticipated for him a most popular career; they
raid he would disregard the evil counsels of what
srasaptly termed the Kitchen Cabinet, and admin
ister to the governmcn Ynr the interests ofthe
whole people. The opposition wearied bv their
unavailing e> onions, were content to lay down
their arms, and trusting the assurance of his friends
judge the President according to his policy and
acts. Scarcely had Mr. Van Buren been seated
to the Presidential chair before the suspension of
specie payments took place—a eatasrophe which
lie had not the shrewclnessfo foresee, and the con
sequences of which though imperatively called
on by the situation ofthe country, lie took no
measures to avert. It was for Mr. Van Burn?
first to announce substantially that the interest
ofthe Government and People were separate, —
that Government had no authority to interfere
with the currency for the purpose of coutroling
and regulating it, —that the Government should
have oue currency while the people enjoyed an
other, and that in the midst of embarrassment
and distress while tiie people were asking for re
lief the Government would take care of itself, while
the people should be left to take care of themselves.
—'l iiese were the (final sentiments of the Presi
dent. Surely his integrity and his sagacity bud
been overrated, lor he made political blunders as
well as crimes.
During the extra session of Congress but little
adequate to the exigences of the country was ef
fected by the administration. Its immediate wants
were relieved by the issue of Treasury Notes, but
no relief Was given to the mercantile community-
At the regular session of.Congress, the cold and
heartless policy of the Admanistratiou w as persis?