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GEORGIA JEFFERSONIAN A iv » tJitam.v u+ixtysrva:. VOL. 111. PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY CLINE Si GRIFFIN, On the usual terms of three dollars per annum in advance, or tour dollars nt the end of the year.— Advance payments always preferred.—A subscriber may discontinue at any time, by paying up all nr jearasres, but uot otherwise, unless at the option of the editor. Advertisements, not exceeding one hundred words, published at one dollar for the first insertion, and fifty cents for eacii continuance. Larger ones at those rates. Legal notices, published on the terms prescribed ,I>.V law, with a liberal discount to Sheriffs and Clerks, when payments are made promptly, but not otherwise. All letters addressed to the publisher must he post paid. From the New York Spiri! of the Times. ROMANCE OP THE WOODS. The Wild Horses <>/ the Western Prairies. By the Author of ‘Tom Owen,’ and ‘ Bee Hunter.’ The head waters of the Atltnnsas and Black rivers flow through u country abotin ding in singular variety, with a high and broken land and level prairie. Many of these abrupt eminences spring up from the I'ktyt, run along for a lew miles, and again t disappear in broken rsdges. Standing upon ■•Jons of these eminences, ii it is u favourable season of the year, the eye Is greeted with a sight of life ill the spring time of exis tence as beautiful and glorious as the age and decay of the old world is desolate and heart breaking. There is a freshness in the whole scene, a < v«M as it is, that rests upon the oiiw blow n u>se. The sun here sends if a morning rays 'll rough an atmosphere so dewy and soft, that it seems to kiss the prairie flowers gently, only meeting the •odes <d ,ts abrupt hills with it.-, noon day heats. Among the ptairie and broken land lives every specie* of game, the antelope, tbc d.-tr, the tinkey, the bear and buffa lo— these are all found in abundance, but the most prominently attractive object is the wild horse, flora the noble animal has rmmiod untntmclied until every trace of subjection, which marked his progenitors, has disappeared. They are now children of the wind, mid only need but one more touch nt freedom to mom t the atr. The high meiif and racer, wrought tip to (ho pir i,» lion of ivdized lica'uty, u» lie stops upon tie tuts, enlists indescribable emotions of pleasure. But the animal falls incompara bly behind the wild horse of'he prairie, in every point tviiofti mcro beauty is concern ed. There is subjection in the gait and in the eye of tbc ‘•blood’' that tolls of slavery; while the wild horse is the very fr'e'edom of bis life, and proudly ntid nobly indeed do'es he woar his honor. To stand upon the high hills that rise up (Yocn the plains in i.i this rich country of their borne, and mark the v ild horse as ihey exhibit their charm lor, is one of the most interesting sights in nature, At one time, browsing with all quietness and repose, cropping the grass and herbs daintily, anon starting Up ns if in battle array, with fierce aspect and terrible demonstrations of war. Changing in the instant, they will trotutf with coquet ish airs, that would, for affectation, do honor to a favourite troup of ballet gills; then as the thought of their power conies over them, they will with lightning swift ness dash in straight lines across the plains, mingling into one mass, so obscure will they be by their flight. Changing still again, they will sweep round in graceful curves, rivaling the sportive flight of the eagle, then breaking into confusion, pursue a pell mell course for a few moments, until suddenly Some leader will strike out from tho crowd and load off (single file, thus striking out over the plain in line, looking in ihe dis tance like a current of some swift running river. Approach them nearer, an#see what beauty as well as power. That stallion whose mane floats almost down to his knees, shakes it as a warrior of the cru sades would have done his plume; he springs upon the turf ns if his feet Were dainty of the ground; and how that mare leaps and paws, and springs into the air; she would teach her colt to fly, one would think—and then, as the sun shines oblique ly on the crowd, their skltis betray the well formed musclfr, and darken and glitter, like silver and gold. The groom of the stable labors in vain for such glossiness; it is tho result of health—it’s nature. The wild Indian loves the horse, herein Showing his humanity and his soul. Me; has his traditions that his ancestors were once without them, and the Great Spirit is daily thanked that he now possesses the treasure. The “happy hunting grounds” ore filled with the noble animal, and the warrior, if he reposes in peace, is beside his steed, which sacrificed on his grave, follows him in spirit to the lalid el the Indians’ father. In the ludian horseman tho centaur of the aticients may bo said to still exist, for as ho dashes across his native wilds he forms ah most really a part of the animal on which he rides; without saddle or biidle*, if he choos es, he will spring upon Ihe bare back and be off with the wind ; the loose parts of his dress streaming Out. and mingling with the flowing mono and tail of his charger so perfectly, that they seem literally and per fectly one being. Tauntig the wild horse forms, as maybe imagined, one of the great characteristics of the distinguished Indian; horsemanship being considered, as among enlightened nations, not only useful, but one of the splendid accomplishments. The noisy pride of exultation never rings loud er in the forest than when the spirit of the undaunted steed is first conquered, and his fiery impatience submits to the will of a ri der. On tho banks of the “shining river” was encamped a successful war party of the Os ages. They had stole into' their enemies’ country when a majority of their men were off On a hunting expedition, and, with their customary warfare, they had butchered every living being they had met with. The sculps taken were numerous, mid many were the ‘braves’ who, for the first time brnvadoed over the bloody trophy, although it once might have graced the head of a young girl or infant Songs, dances, and exultations were rife, old men forgot their dignity, and grew gay and jocular. The women sung songs of victory, and tho chil | dren emulated their sires in mimic warfare, • and in the imaginary shedding of blood.— It was a jubilee, and the spirit of all was for excitement. As the sun set on this an imated scene, n hundred fires curled up into tho air, nnd with their forked tongues light ed up tho rudo buffalo skin tent nnd its swarthy inhabitants, nnd showed off by in distinct light the forest trees, as mysterious traces of tremendous limbs, suspended, as if by magic, in the surrounding gloom. The bustle nnd confusion was beyond description, but of all tho spotts exhibited on this occasion, nono were so prominent as feats of horsemanship. Gradually, os the evening wore away, every thing center ed in this chivalrous amusement, and tho whole scene became more than ever strikin'* and peculiar. Tho animals, alarmed bv the glare of torches and tho shouts of tho crowd, seemed crazed and Confused ; at one time they trembled nt the voices of their masters, nt other times, starting off in i the swiftest speed, as if endeavoring to es j rope; ail these caprices were taken advan ! tags of by the riders to display their skill, for at one time they would bound upon the horses’ back, like panthers, and dash oft'in to the woods, or, if the steeds w ere quit tlv disposed, mount their backs and shame the Morrows and Norths by their evolutions. ; Occasionally a horse would dash by us, ap | parent ly without a rider—when, suddenly, I there would tise from a side opposite to the i spectators, ihe form of an Indian, who hnd I sustained himself by the slightest pressure l of the foot on the horses back and a hold on the mane. Another would follow at full speed, when the rider, as if suddenly para lysed, would disappear, and as you invol untarily looked on the ground for his place j of fall, you would hear his shrill cry ringing ! in ‘.he distance, as he was borne off on his I steed. Th tso feats involved sorrie of the ; stratagems used in war, for the Indian cav j airy, as they beur down upon their enemies, j will pass them at full speed without a rider | being seen, while the fatal arrow or lead J will fiv from under the horses neck. In the midst of these amusements, a strong muscular Osage came into the camp leading by halter ono of tho largost black stallions seen among the tribe; he was powerfully built, his rnano almost touched his knees, and his tail trailed on the ground; his nostrils were distended to tho largest diametor, and his eves contracted and dila ted like flames of tire. A more beautiful creature cannot bo imagined, and as ho started and snorted at tho crowd, he seem ed to say that the halter around his neck only confined his body, and that his spirit was still tree. There were marks of the ropes upon his sides and legs that showed a fierce contest had ensued before he was thrown, so as to saddle him—and for all this severe treatment it only rendered him patient in following his captor at the full end of tile rope; for if any nearer approach es were attempted, he resented them by the most powerful displays of anger. As tho Indian led this noble animal tip and down before tho assembled multitude, for tho double purpose of showing his beauty and his own prowess in catching him, the cry became universal for the owner to mount him, and there was no bound to tho wonder that ensiled, when the most cel ebrated horseman of the tribe acknowledg ed himself incapable of “backing” the ani mal before them. Twenty living men with forms of Apollo’s and tho activity of the deer, offered eagerly to do it, and one more eager than the rest, at once approached the noble prisoner. We felt for the steed, nnd sympathised with the spirit that resented the mounting on his back. Held ns ho was, that the rider might mount him, he snorted, and pawed the ground, rose into tho air, and fairly yelled with tage; and if any one really succeeded in getting into the saddle, no sooner was the rider left to his owrt re sources, than he was thrown or dismounted by the animal’s trying to crush him by roll ing on the ground. This long continued opposition, surprising to all, by ith success and endurance, heightened the wish to con quer him, and wo waited with breathless impatience for the swarthy Alexander that was to conquer this modern Bucephalus.— The continued trials satisfied mo that the Indians were all astonished at tho long re sistance that the horse made, for the sar castic tone of voice ceased, ns ono, “brave” GRIFFIN (GA.) SATURDAY.MORNING, JULY ?), 1812. after another relinquished tho task, and fell back into the crowd; and finally as the last effort was made to ride the noble animal, and the usual want of success followed it, and the horse remained quietly, a prisoner unconqucred among his captives. Had it now been in our power, we would have been proud at this moment to have stepped forward nnd released the noble captive, we would have been delighted to havo seen his heels ns ho bounded off among his fellows over the wild prairie, we would have exulted in his freedom, and proved that he might neverwear the badge of laborious submission. But this pleasure was denied us. Among those associated with the Osages, was a white hunter, who from his prowess had gained tho mitno of tho “horse tamer.” The Indians had often spoken to me about him, and as he presented himself before the camp at Shis particular time, his wel come was boisterous. Tho unsuccessful efforts to ride tho horse before him were soon detailed, nnd lie was challenged to make a trial himself. Tho hunter on this oecsiou was opulently fatigued the pack of fresh skins he brought into the camp on his shoulders, was a mule’s burthen; the torn moccasins and leggins, as well as the slow walk, all denoted a long and laborious chase. Still the hunter did not refuse the task; ho bantered awhile with words, to see how much honor there would be in tidihg the horse, and when lie once discovered that there was so much to bo gained, his pride prompted him to accept the task. it was with no common interest that we watched the proceedings of the horse ta mer. Tho Indians, who had given up the trial in despair, which the jaded hunter before me so confidently accepted, were men of pow erful strength, of tho most astonishing activity, uhd the best equestrians I ever saw, or imagined, nnd that they could have been beaten seemed no less than a miracle. The horse tamer, approached the stallion, nnd examined the gitth of plaited hair that held the rudo trapping attached to it in its place. He took hold of the pummel which rose like n goose neck from the saddle, to sre if it was firm; then with a cautious and critical care, he drew gently upon the bridle reins to see if the slip nooses at tho ends which encircled the horse’s snout would readily tighten, for the Osages bridle has no bit. All these things being to his satisfac tion, ho next proceeded to roll tip an Indian blanket into a hard body, which he fastened to the long pummel of tho saddle in sueh a way that the ends of it would firmly bind upon his thighs, if once mounted; then wdth a small deer skin thong, he tied the wooden stirrups underneath the horse, eo they could not sty above the level of the animal’s belly. All preperations being ended, the lamer proceeded to mount. Four of tho most powerful 1 ndinns seized hold of tho nni 'mnl’s bridle, and pulling head down, held the poor stn'lion so firmly, he could only use his heels; but in spile of their flying about, the “horso tamer” gained his seat, and sang out ‘let him go.’ Tlie order was accompanied by a shout iu at made the welkin ring. The stallion more than cvrr alarmed, gave one of his most furious efforts to throw off his burthen, but this had been anticipated, for as he throw himself into the air, tho blanket bound the rider to his seat—tho second effort, that of rolling on the ground, also failed, for ns tho horse threw himself on bis side, the tamer landed gracefully on hie foot, tho doer skin thong kept thostiirups in their places, nnd at the next instant, as the “galled jade,, sprang on his feet, tho rider went up with him. A long, hearty prolonged shout followed the inimitable exhibition. The wild horse for tho first tirrio felt tho possibility of defeat ; his proud liparing was already naif gone, for all his succeeding efforts were those of des pair. Vain, indeed, were his displays of power ; the tiger with his deadly hold upon the bnuticli of the buffalo, could not bo more securely fastened to his victim than was the tamer to his. Tho reaiing, pitching, shying, plunging, running and suddenly stopping, seemed nil known be fere hand, and met, with a perfect guard, that displayed tho most consummate judge- ment and skill in horsemanship. At last, the “tamer” seemed tired of tho cruel sport, and taking advantage of his infuriated vic tim, ns ho threw his fore feet in tho air, he slipped quietly ofl'behind him, nnd with a slight jerk careened the horse over on his back, driving bis head deeply iu the soft turf. Stunned and confounded, tho poor animal rolled upon his side, and tho ‘lamer’ threw his bridle over his neck nnd left him. The poor creature was completely con quered; trembling from head to foot, and half drowned with tho profuse sweat that rolled from his sides like foam, he cast a look of imploring despair at tho crowd, and the big tear rolled down his checks. Ilis spirit was completely broken. A little coaxing brought him on his feet, the sndillo was removed (rotn his back, nnd the bridle from his head, and he walked slowly off'to be found, by a singular law of his nature, associated with the pack horses oj his tribe, and waiting for the burthen of his master. Poverty, With all its inconveniences, has! its advantages also. It disciplines the mind, it quickens all its faculties, it gives it strength arid vigor, it prepares it for great endurance and noble nchicvments. The greatest men thu world has ever produced sprung from humble origin and received the rough nursing of poverty.—The children of wealthy parents scarcely ever attain to any superior excellence. Petted and spoil ed in childhood, idle in youth and supplied without effort on their part with all tho means and excitements of dissipation, their manhood is oltcn disgraced with pernicious habits and vices, which after they had lived awhile, tolerated only in society on account of their parent’s virtues, bring them to a prmature grave. Tho children of tho poor are not spoiled by indulgence. Plain coarse ’ faro, daily exercise in the fields nnd woods nnd exposure to the sun and change of weather, gives them strong eonstif’itions and clear vigorous intellects, capable of i the highest improvement. They are taught at an early age, to rely upon their own ex ertions and to think and act for themselves. Sober, industrious and persevering they soo.T\aequire property, character nnd influ ence. \\ ill) honest pride mingled with pity, they can then look down upon tho v\ retched offspring of wealth, who once derided their poverty, and insulted them with taunts nnd jeers. Acting men! you, who are now spen ding vaur time in idleness and luxury e.t the expense of your too fund and yielding par ents, take care, the timo will come, when the sons ol poverty, who are now tho ob jects of your laughter and contempt, will have reason to thank Heaven, that they were left like yourselves, to run on heed lessly and uninterrupted to ruin and infa ! my. Love-letters. —The first love-letter is an I epoch in love’s happy season—it makes as surance doubly sure—that which has hith erto, perhaps, only found utterance in sweet and honied words, now seems to take a more tangible existence. A Idve-letter is a proof hoiv dearly, even in absence, you j are remembered. Be once hoard a young I friend regret her approaching marriage, lie cause she would then receive no more char ming notes. Alas! the charming notes are not the only charming things that are no more. But love-letters? how much of life’s most perfect happiness do those two words contain! With what anxiety it is expected! with what delight it is received! it seems almost too grent a pleasure to open it. Sud denly wo mock ourselves for the charmed delay--the seal is hastily broken, the con tents eagerly dovonred; then it is read slowly, dwelling on every sentence to lengthen out its enjoy me tils; how sweet does every Jitte word of endearment appear! what importance is attached to the choice of an epithet, to the turn or a phrase! Thro’ the whole day, with what a conscious thrill its possession is recalled ! with what care it is rend over at night, till its contents min gle with our dreams! IVo often wonder when we sec people settled down in that cold calmness, too often tho atmosphere around the domestic hearth, whether they ever recall the words they used to sav ami the letters they used to write ! Would those letters appear absurd nnd exaggerated or would they for a moment bring buck the j old feeling, or at all events, a tender regret; for its departure?—-V. Y. Mirror. ■ 4 veto kind of traffic. —The Yankees are every where famous for swapping. It is not often, however, that wc have, to re cord a speculation like tho following even in Yankee land. In a portion of the town of Great Barrington, known by tho appro priate name of Timber-shin, lives one Aus tin, until recently a sorrowing widower.— Tho wife of Austin not long since died, leaving him a daughter aged seventeen.— Like most who have been blest with ex cellent wives; he Was exceedingly uncom fortable in his bereaved state. Hard bv lived a neighbor, whose happiness with a w ife Austin envied. Austin mourned with his neighbor one day oVcr his own hard lot, while hb Congratulated him upon thu pos session of such an excellent w ife. The neighbor seemed to think that he would prefer the daughter of Austin as a compan ion to his own wife, valuable no she ivas. A swap was finally proposed and agreed to Austin received a little “hoot” on account of the difference in the ages of the females. The females making no objection, ihe ex change was effected. Austin received,! and has for months lived with !ho vvifo o( his neighbor, who makes good the place of j her whoso loss he had mourned. The j daughter of Austin furnishes tho neighbor j with a wife, with which he is well pleased, congratulating himself not a little that he lias swapped off his old wife for a “bran nciv 1 one, nnd only had to pay five dollars («t boot.” —Stockbrillge Visiter, Past Driving. —“ Coachman,” said an outside passenger to ono who was driving at a furious rate over one of tho most moun tainous roads in the north of England “have you no consideration for our lives and limbs ?” “What are your lives and limbs to me,” was the roply; I am behind my time?” AN ORATION Delivered in the City o) Griffin, on the .in niversary of American Independence, Ju ly illi, 18-1:2. By David Clopton, Esq. Wc have assembled on this dav, Fellow- Citizens, to contemplate tho noblest work of man. A great political temple, reared by the hands ol our own sues, spreads its magnificent form before nnr astonished and enraptured admiration. 1 1 spire pierces tho heavens, nnd nVound it is entwined the lightning’s glowing wreath—its circumfer ence encompasses the widest extent of our ow n land—and its doois are open to the persecuted nnd oppressed of every nation, w hilst within its halls preside peace, plenty and happiness. It bears no scathe ot ages; lolling years havo served to beautify and adorn. ( olumu after column bus arisen to support its increasing grandeur. Upon its North are inscribed the Canadas—upon its South is extended the Gulf—the dark, blue Atlantic laves its East—whilst on the West rolls Ihe enraged Pacific. Eternity may play around its summit, and boundless l'iine repose beneath itsshadowß. Behold, approaching it, on this memora ble day, seventeen millions of native free men, above whoso head floats “ ihe Star Spangled Banner.” I see there no P,oman triumph. Where is the regal splendor of enslaved kings to deck the triumphal car? Where are tho trophies of conquered sub jects ! \\ here the turns of sacked cities, and tho relics of departed greatness ] Do you hear the suppressed sob of the captive, as he contemplates, a long and dreary ser vitude or as he listens to the forging of the bondman’s chains? Do you be hold the wo-stricken look of thej Emperor, as he turns to weep over a fallen threnc, or to surrender the sccptro of lost power to a haughty conqueror ? No, it is the proud march of civilization through the wilder ness— of the sons of freedom going to of fer their devotions at tho shrine of liberty. Feelings of an Unworthy nature find no admittance into this temple—the jealousy of party spirit is hushed. Its storms may howl around the outer walls, or retreat in threatening terrors to the valleys of the far off mountains; it may lash the foam-crest od wave, and its echoes reverberate along distant countries i but within, all is calm anil quiet—peace stretches hot white wings over tho vast multitude—no murmur of discord whispers contention through these ranks—you hoar but the loud hosnnnas, that burst from hearts strung to tho dulcet notes Os patriotism. The servile peasant dwells in wonder upon the scene, and lungs for freedom, and the scorns of the despot, abashed and refuted, recoil within his own breast. Do you ask the cause of all this mighty concourse ? Hear you not the glad acclaim w ith which this morn is ushered in, and which reverberates through the welkin, and resounds from the mountains to the seaboard. It is the birth day of Liberty, the political Sabbath of America, the pass over of the New World. This is a duy, however, Follow-C'itiz ns, for higher anil nobler purposes, than tho- I of mere pleasure or national gratulatioos— a day, sacred to the memory of departed I worthies, nnd frabght with recollections dually bought. It well becomes us to be guided by the lahip of experience, and to watch tho beacon fires which history has kindled for the direction of tho Statesman. We learn to avoid the dangers of the future, by retrospection the errors of tho past. We have to pass over a political sea, around whoso ebast tho tempest of destruction plays in wanton sportfulness. Republics haVe arisen, and their vessels of state, freighted with hopes far more valuable than the golden fleece, have sailed for n while over an even surface, until their helmsmen havo been lulled to sleep by tho syren voice of uncertain security, and awoke only to behold a wreck : and now their scattered fragments stand out as buoys to warn us of tho hidden ruin. What day, then, is so proper to contemplate the evils that threaten our safety, and tho advantages possessed by our Government as this, w hen the passions, aroused by passing events have been stilled nnd their voice is no longer hoard, and when we are permitted to hold sweet con verso with those heroes whose excellencies we have been taught to admire, whose vir tues to imitate, and whose names to revere —as this day, m each revolving year be comes the meeting ground for Ihe dead and tho living—when tho images of Ihe patriots of Bunker Hill, Saratoga i:hd Yn. blown, j appear upon iijomorv’s canvass to advise and encourage their descendants ! Peihnps no portion of time embodies within ti e same duration inoro evenful scenes, than the yet brief history of A fiieriea —because tuuie ha.i been so fraught with the happiest changes in the condiiion of our race. From this Western World arose a light, that was destined to dispel the gloom and daikness which ages of barba rism lied gathered over human ufT,i s ; and it ascended, like the slur of Bethlehem to lead men to tho spot where lay the infant form of liberty. Commerce then unreeled its sails, only to catch tho breer.es that coasted along tho inland shore ; the broad ocean was extended before it unexplored and unnavigated ; and its precious mines No. 28. of wealth were known only to the Levia than of the deep. The his) days of seiut -I‘fic Egypt and Republic n Greece had gene down with past years, their glories had set behind the accumulation oi ages. The dark night of ignorance had drawn its dtca ry pall over science, freedom and religion ; and upon it, were erected the cruelty of the feudal laws and the diabolical inquisition* This latter age compared with the former, as the feeble glimmering of twilight to,tho dazzling brilliancy ol the noon-day’s sun; for ntind and matter were alike buried be* ■tenth the rubbish of tyranny and supersti tion. At such a moment as this, a small’ fleet is seen to wend its way across the trackless sea, braving its anger and mounting its billows. Duy alter day they sail onward, and yet the goal of their hopes seems r,o nearer than when first they began their perilous voyage. The spirit of adven tuic dies away, and the enthusiastic ardor of the Commander himself is almost ex tinguished, when at the secret hour of midnight, when deep darkness was broo ding o’er the. face of nature,yand when the i stars, the silent messengers of night, were peering front behind the canvass of tho heavens, the erv of “ land ! land!” is heard; and Columbus, clad in rich attire and clothed with regal splendor, plants the first European foot up the soil of San Salvador. His imagination had been lost in the reve ries of discoveries ; hut now, rising front the ground ol reality, and soaring upon lenrian wings, into the higher and subltmer regions of fancy, he saw portrayed before his delighted view', thrones and kingdoms, governed by the sceptre of his tair queen, Isabella. Were he now to revisit cailb, he would behold no such results ps hp j saw in his wildest visions, arising from the ful/i/ment of hi3 mysterious mission. The natives, front whose Conversion lie anticipa ted in his religious gratitude such tni"htv triumphs for Christianity, are fast retreating with tho deep shadows of tho unknown world before the proud tread of civilization, and, ere long, may find a burial place upon the Wintry penks ot the Rocky Mountains, or a watery grave in (he bottomless depths ot tho Pacific, An t Spain, whose territo ry, he expected, to become so enlarged, whose authority so supreme, whoso wealth so unbounded and whose resources so. in numerable, where now would he tind her? Lowest upon the scale ofEttropoan nations. But could ono pang of disappointment pierce his heart, *s ho contemplated with gazing admiration, the groat and beneficial changes which ho bad been the instrument of effecting in the condition of human af fairs ? V\ ould he now wonder at the grand achievements of ntind, since it has been pet milled to roam unrestrained the homid iess fields ot knowledge and invention, and the powerful operations of the arms of industry and enterprise, since they have been left to afct ui.ittattielled ? Would lie not exclaim ”Io Triumphe,” as ho wit nessed tho free principles oi Liberty flour ishing, its genial influence extending, and this country thickly populating under tho kind auspices of a Republican Government! Would not his heart leap with joy, as lie hoard tho woodman’s uxo resounding in tho wild regions of our Western forests; and as his imagination, penetrating yet further into the tuture, saw one free anti independent people unfurling their banners from tho Atlantic to tho Pacific ? Nj peiiod could ImVe been selected more favorable to the growth of iiec institu tions, than the early settlement of this couu try. Tho black crime of religion:* perse cution had stained the fair fame of England; and the Cavalier and Round Head Iveta successively driven front her sed-girt shores and sought refuge in the unsettled wilder ness. Ecclesiastical authority bore strong ly and heavily upon a!!, who dared assert the freedom of worship which God and nature had bestowed ; and they chose rather to incur the dangers and difficulties ol tho new world, than the stakes and gib ■ bets of the old. When they left their na tive land, they passed from a state of social organization to one of primeval nature, and tho reckless independence, which the sttd.- den transition created, could scarcely brook the necessary restraint of law. External obstacles, arising from the dangerous vicin ity of the Indian savages, or the fear of the uplifted tomahawk, or the sudden approach of the untamed beast, tlrrcw barriers in tho progress of ungoverned freedom, bound only by first laws and defended only by in dividual prowess; else Society would hnvo known no other extent in this favored land, save that of patriarchal jurisdiction. The wild adventurer, led on by the excite - ment of discovery, wandered to day through some land of promise, which had ne’er b< in trodden by the foot of the white man. or stood, to-morrow, upon the Hanks of some nobio stream, the tale oi whose ma jesty lit* wis to hear to his companions, less hold than himself. No circumstances could have contributed more !■". produce a habit of self reliance, and a consciousness of the necessity of common succor, than those wieh attended onr early pioneer, 110 braved dangers clothed in the more terror, because they were seen t anti hidden : tvas carried to the ndmiritionof now rfrta^i