Erie observer. (Erie, Pa.) 1830-1853, May 27, 1848, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    VOLUME 19.
portrD nub illisrelianv.
Through the open window,
.A.o a ‘selcome coiner.
Breathes upon my forehead '
The warn breath of summer
The 014 fore's , t4 murmur -
in the fragrant air;
Leafy elveg are telling
Their gwert love-tales there!
And the riculers ramble
Through the meadow gra,e,
To the bathing tlov.ern
Singing as they pa..!
lii thr thiry emirert,
With sweets howl and high,
Geitthy birds are. thrilling
Music hi the shy:
'llrongh Ow opening furrows
Gleams the rushing 'share
While the plough-boy
To the listening air!
111 i. lo‘c and labor,
All I. merry .otig-,-'
May the daps that follow
tiwell the chorus long!
Faroan:ham, Mass., May JO, 11,19.
The Changed and Unehaliged.
"Rep t says that my queenly cousin is to lay aside
her absolute sceptre, and submit to a lord and mas
ter," saiifGeorge Mason, to his cousin, Emily Earl,
as she took his arm for an evening walk.
“If you mean that 1 am to be married, that is a re
port which truth does not require me to contradict;'
void the young lady; in a tone adapted to repress the
farnillar manner of her companion. He had just re
} turned from a long absence in a foreign land. His
early ymith had been passed in his uncic'e
Ile left his cousin a beautiful girl, Ile found her on
his return a still more beautiful woman.
• "I am said he, with a slight change
Of manner,"t3 see the man who has drawn so splen
did a prize. Is he like the picture you 'drew of the
-Tian you would marry, as we sat by the willow
brook from.the rising of the moon to its meridian?
You remember that most beautiful night?"
sqt is not desirable to remember all 'Oa follies of
childhood," said Emily, coldly. Mason was silent.
It was plain that they were' no longer what they
had been, brother and sister:
After walking for some distance in silence, Emily
remarked, in a tone inviting conversation, "You
must have seen a great deal of the world."
_ "I have had some means of observation," he re
plied, "but I Kaye seen nothing to wean me from this
spot, and from my friends here."
"Your friends are obliged to you forrhi — :
44 did not intend the remark as a compliment:'
Again there was an interval of jHence. -"I have'
been absent four years," said Mason, as though
speaking to himself, "and I am not conscious of any
change, so far as my feelings are concerned. The
same persons and things which I then loved, I love
now. The same views uilife which I then cherish -
ed I cherish now."
"Experience and knowledge of the world, said
Emily, "ought to give wisdom."
"I win so perverse as to regard it as wisdom to
holdon to the dreams of our early days:"
"Our views ought, it seems to me, to change as
we grow older."
"1 am not sure that We ought to 'grow old, so far
nu our feelings are concerne4."
"You would engage in the vain'effort. to retain
the dews and freshness of morning, after e the sun has
<arisen — with a burning heat."
"I believe the dew of . our youth may be preserved
even until old age," ,
4 , 1 am surpritzed that acquaintance with the world
has nut coarected your views of life. One would
think that von had lived in entire seclusion."
"I nm furpaised that the romantic, warm-hearted
Emily Earl should become the worldly-wise lecturer
ef her, cousin."
• "We bad bear speak upon some other subject?
Had you a pleasant voyage homeward?;'
"Yes. ft could not be otherwise, when my face
teas toward 'my own, my native land,' and the friends
so fresh in my remembrance."
A slight shade of displeasure tlittered across Em
ily's features. She made no remark: ,
"Where is Susan Greyr said Mason:
"She is dead." •
"Indeed! She was jusimy own age. She was
single-hearted girl."
''She often inquired for you. You never fancied
'yourself in love with her."
"No. IVlty that question!"
"She was under the impression that we Were en
gaged, and seemed quite relieved when 1 informed
her she was mistaken."
"What has become of Mary Carver?''
"She is married, and lives in that house," pointing
to a miserable hut near at hand.
"ls it possible?"
"Her husband is intemperate. It was a clandes
tine marriage—a love match, you know:'
"Was her husband intemperate when she married
"Not habitually so. Ile waa so very romantic'
and devoted to her, so that, I suppose, she thought
she could reform him."
"What has become of Mr, 'talent'', your old .
'friend?' admirer,lie would have said, but he deemed
it unwise
"lie is a lawyer here, in a small way. I helitve
they think of sending him to Congress." '
"Is he ,married?"
ny, t o -
"I thought he seemed to be attached to you; at
least I hoped that he would become my cousin."
"I will answer your question in regard to 'others
—Tay own affairs"do not require remark."
This rebuke, so unlike any thing he had ever re
ceived from his cousin, led him to fix ,his gaze upon
her countenance, as if to make sure of her identity.
There could be no mistake. There was the same
brilliant eye, the same faultless features on which he
had gazed in former years. A conciliating smile
led him to resume his inquiries. •
"Is Eliza Austin ovirrie I?" His voice, as he ask-.
ekl this question, was far from nattiral i perhaps in
consequence of the agitation which the rebuke just
.spoken of liuAi occasioned, '
"No; she lives somewhere in the village, I
know exactly where."
"Do you ever see herr •
"Yes; she lives with her aunt, who some
washes for us, so that I see her niece occasions
"Why does she live with her aunt?"
"Her mother died soon after you went away
"Eliza stilllives in the village, then?" T .
very unnecessary question his cousin- bowed i
ply. Few words more passed between them d
the remainder of their wall:.
"You do not stay out as late as you used to
said Mrs. Earl, as they entered the parlor.
"We are no longer children," said Emily. NI
could scarcely repress an audible -.sigh," as
words fell from her lips. At an early hour, ii
paired to his chamber.
George Mason was left. an orphan in his {early
youth. lie then became a member of his uncle's
family, and the constant companion of his cousin
Erni,ly. He desired no society but hers. 'H i er slight
ly imperious temper did not interfere with the
growth of his affection. She had a sister's place in
his glowing, heart. He was in some setis l e her
teacher, and!slie caught something of his
. romantic
nature. Of the little circle of her associates, he was
the idol;
- - -
At. the age of fourteen lie left home to purshe his
studies for two years at a public institution. At the
end of that period he became • u clerk in a large
commercial establishment in the city. At. ,the
close of the first year he accompanied one of the
piincipale abroad, and remained there in charge of
the business for nearly four years. Ile was nOw on
the hign road to wealth.
Sooti after George Mason had gone abroad, Emily
Earl went to the city to complute her educat i on.—
She was in due time initiated into the mysteiies_of
fashionable life. Introduced to society by a t
of unquestionable rank, her face and form pre:
attractions sufficient to make her 4 object of ate
and flattery. Four successive winters were-
in the city. She was the foremost object
"who flattered, sought, and sued." Is it s
that her judgment was perverted, nod her hea
en out? Is it strange that'her cousin 'found
changed being?
She had engaged to marry one whose claitnito her
regard was the thousands he possessed, and Ow ea
gerness with which he was sought by those 'whose
chief end was an establishment in life. She had
tanght herself to believe that the yearnings of the
heart were to be classed with the follies of childhood.
Henry Ralston was the sun. of a small farmer, or
rather of a man who was the possessor of a small
farm, and of a large soul. Henry was modest, yet
aspiring; gentle, yet intense in is affections. The z
patient toil and rigid self-denial of his father gave
him the advantage of an excellent education. In
childhood he was the frequent companion 'of George
and Emily. pen then an attachment sprung up in
his heart for his fair p'aymate. This was quietly
cherished; and when he entered upon the practice of
the laW in his natve village, he otThred Emily; his
hand. It was, without hesitation or apparent pain,
fejected. Thus she cast away the only true heart
which Was ever laid upon the altar of her beauty.
Ile bore the disappointment 'with out ward calmness,
though the iron entered his soul. 'lid gave all his
energies to the labors of his profession. Such was
the impression of his ability and Worth, that he was
abont tobe supported, apparently without opposition,
for a scat in the national' councils.
Eliza .tustin was the daughter of a deceased min
ister, %vita had worn himself out !n the cause of be
nevolence, and died, leaving his wife and, daughter
penniless. She was several years younger than
George and Emily,; but early trials seemed to give
an early maturity to her mind. She was seldom
their companion, for her young days Were spent in
toil, aiding her mother in her efforts Ao obtain a scan
ty sobsistance. Iler intelligence, her perception of
the beautifll, and her devotion to her mother madea
deep impression upon George, and led him to regard
'her as he regarded no other earthly being. Long
before the idea of love was associated with her name,
he felt for her a respect veneration.
Ile had often desired to write to her during his-ah
sence, but his entire ignorance of her situatiun ren
dered it unwise.
The waters of affliction had been wrung out to her
in a full cup: The long and distressing 'sickness of
her mother was ended only by the grave., She was
then invited to take up her nbode with her father's
sister, whose intemperate husband had broken her
spirit, but had not exhausted her heart. it was sad
for Eliza to exchange the quiet home, the voice of
Affection, of prayer, and of praise for the harskcrim
inations of the drunkand's abode. She would have
left that abode for service,but for the distress it would
have given her aunt.
Death*. length removed the tormentor; and those
who had ministered to his appetite swept away all
his property .
The mind of Aunt Mary, now more than half
a wreck, utterly revoked at the idea of seperation
from her ,niece.l Eliza could not leave her.—
Declining eligible situation al a teacher in a dis
tant village, - She rendered her aunt all the assistance
in her power in her lowly employment—believing
that the path dictated by affection, and duty, though
it might meet with the neglect and the scorn of
men, would not fail to secure the approbation of God.
cilArrEn 111
"IVell, George," said Mr. Earl, as they were sea
ted at the breakfast-table, "how do you intend to dis
pose of yourself to-day I"
•'I hate a great many old friends to visit, sir."
"It may not be convenient for some of them to see
you early in the morning."
"Some of them, I think, will not heat all particular
respeciting the time of my visits. There is the white
rock 6y the falls which I must give an hour to; and
I must see if the old trout who lived' tinder it has ta
kenas good care of himself during my absence as he
did before I went away. And there i t s the willow
grove ? too,, which I wish 'Cory-much _tä see."
"It ins been cut down."
"Cut down!—what for?"
"Mr. Bullard thought it interfered with hia.pros
peel:' .
"Why did you not interfere, cousin?" -.turning to
"It was nothing to me what he, dhlyi4his grove,"
said Emily.
"Oh, I had forgotten--" George did not
the sentence. Ho:turned the conversation to
of the ordinary topic of the day:
After breakfast he set out for_Willow Brook
seated himself upon the white rock. The year
had passed since in childhood he sat upon that
were reviewed by him. Though he had met with
and temptations, yet he Was thankful that he
return to that rink .with so many of the feelitig
childhood; that hiss heart's best emotions ha;
been polluted by the world, but: were as yet p.t,
the chrystal stream before him.
4 0. 19
When he rose from that reek instead of vi
the other haunts of, his early,days, he found 1111
moving toward the village. Now and then
miller face was seen. By those who recog J
him he Was warmly greeted. It was not un
meta stranger that he inquired fur the residen
the widow and her niece. ] He was directed
e re-
small dwelling in a' narr,
the open door. The wid
ployed in smoothing the
him enter, but paused no
"Is Eliza at home?" s
"Who can you be tha
said-the poor woman, sti
her work.
"I am an old friend of
"A friendiakfriendr said she,, pausing and
ing upward, as i( strivi ng to recall the idea b
ing to the word. Yesi she had friends once
have they goner'll
Again she plied her' task, as if unconscious
presence. lie seated himself and watche,
countenance, whiCh revealed so sad a history.
lips kept moving, and new and then she spoke
"Poor girl! a hard life hits she had,—it may
right, but I can't see how; and now s he migh
lady if she would leave her poor, halt-crazy .
her whispers were then Inaudible. Soon she.
to Mason and said, as if in reply to_ a questio
I never heard her Icomplain. When those sill
to visit don't know
- herl and look the of tie!
when they meet her, she l never Complains.
will become of he r l when her poor old aunt i-
Who will take care of 1 erl"
of all
6 'l will," said I%;!futon.'
"Who may,You be?' Said she, scanning his
tenance as if she'had now seen him for the fir:
"A friend of hir childhood." ,
"What is your,namei" 1
"George Mason . "
"George Mason! Georgellasonl—l have ,
that name before.} It ws the name she had
often when she had the ever, poor thing! I
, I
know what she silt], though she did not say
during,the whole time tliht would not look wel
ed in a book. 'Did you Use Act live in the big,
I ,
"Yea; I use i f d to. live with my uncle Earl."
"And with Unti l ladyl laying a fierce e n .
upon the word, ''Who never 'speaks to Eli
though Eliza wat ched night after night w 1
when she was Onlthe boaters of the grave.
like her?" obsery lig hind to hesitate, she ask"
more excited Ina ner, "Xre you like Emily El
Fearing that hericlouded mind might receive
pressiondiflicult to remise, he promptly fans l
"No." ' I
rt Bat
her a
am glad of, it s " said the *idow, resumi
The last question and its answer was he
Eliza, as she was coming in from the garden
she had been engaged attending to a few fi
She turned deadly pale_tis she saw Mason, a
mained standing in the door. He arose an,
her hand in bothl of hi:l,and was scarcely I
pronounce her name. The good - old aunt sto
uplifted hands, g l azing With ludicrous amazon,
the scene. Eliza was the first to recover he'
possession. Slie introduced Mason to her a l
an old friend.
"Friend!--are you sure he is a friend?"
“I.le is a friend," said IMason, "who is very
ful to you for the love piu have borne her, a
care you have taken of her."
"There," said she, opiniing a door which 1
parlor, perhaps ten feet square, motioning to
enter. Alason, still retaining her trembling
led Eijza into the room, and seated her on tl l
the chief article of furniture it contained
eyes met his earnest gaZe. They were im
ly, filled with l tears. His S own overflowe
threw his arm around - her, and they mingle
tears in silence. It was long ere the first w !
spoken., Eliza at length seemed to wake a '
dream. - -
"What am I doing'!" said she attempting,
move his arm, "we are almost strangers:'
"Eliza," said he, solemnly, "do you_say w
feel!" -
"No, bittsl know not—" she could not fit,
sentence.' -
"Eliza, you are dearer,to me than any on
earth." She made no efforts to resist the
of his arm: There were some moments of e
"Eliza, will you become my wife?"
,"Do you know how Utterly destitute) am'
"That has no connection with my questh
"If you are the same George Mason you
be, you wish fora direct answer. I will."
not till this word that he vent
imprint a kiss urn
"I have not done „id Eliza; "you
er know how much I owe to thlt dear aunt.
not to engage myself without her consent
never be separated from her."
"You cannot suppose that I would wish )
separated." '
"You are the same—" she was about to
,epithets of praise, but checked herself. '
that you have' remained unchanged?" I I
"By keeping bright an -image in my
hearts." ,
With some'diffictilty - Eliza rose, and ope
door, - lher aunt. She came and sto'
"Well, ma'm," said Mason, have gain t e
consent to change her name, if you will g
consent." She stolld as one beWildered.
which rested tin t her countenance was paint
hold. It was' necessary to repeat his rema
shecould comprehend it.
"Ab, is it so? It has come at least. lI I e
things well. I had n't faith to trust him.
eth all things well." •
"We have your consent?"
ow lane.. He knock
low, who was busily
white linen before her,
it from her work.
aid Mason
yoit ma — Vireo E
I not lifting her eye
hers," said Mason.
AY 2"7,188.
"If she is
to ice, you % i
hall : as loving to ou ae she has been
Till never be sorry But what wilt be
no idea of parting with you. She has
nsent only on condition that you go with
i l d lady fixed her gaze upon her niece.
e that f6atures So plain, so wrinkl6 - d by
row, could beam with such a ffection.:—
no words to express her feelings.—
)ler door and was heard sobbing like a
come ef
"We hay
given her c.
us." The s
It Was stran
age and sor
, a of
i,, not
She could fi
She closed t 1
. .
Hour after hour stole away. unnoted by the lovers.
They were summined to partake of the frugal meal
prepared by aunt Mt;ry's bands, and no apologies
were made for its lack of store. Again they retired
to the little parlor, and it was not until the sun wa
low in the west; that ho set out on his return to tb
'white houtle. — TY'
"We cede)de that you havepasseS a happy day,"
said Mrs. Dart, "at least your countenance says so.
We began 6 - feel anxious about you."
i il he
° I of
MEIo the brook first, and then:to the village."
"Have y.O seen many of your old friends?"
"Several of them." -
Mason was relieved from the necfssity of an
swering further questions by the arrival of a mt:g
age at theoor. Mr. Earl rose and went -to the
Window. 'Mr.inenfield has come," said he. Em
ily arose and left the room to return in another dress,
1 .
and with flo l wers in her hair.
' . Mr. Bon Id was shown to his room,) and in" a
few mome is joined the family ['Lille tea-table.—
Emily rece ved him with "a smile, which, however
beautiful i may- have , been, was not like the smile
of Eliza Austin. Mason saw that Mr. Benfield be
longed ton class with which he wai perfectly well
acquainted. ~I t is well," though - the, Ythat she has
filed down her mind, if she must spend her days
with a maq like him." Mason passed the evening
with his uncle, though he was -sadly inattentive to
his uncle's remarks. Emily and Mr. Bonfield took
a walk, anll on their return did not join the family.
Benfleld's pbject in visiting the countrytat this time
was to fix it day for his marriage. - The evening was
spent by them in discussing matters Pertaining to
that event).
“N o
• used
1 i .
It was necessary for Mr. Benfield to return to the
city on th 4 afternoon of the following day. • Mason,
for various reasons, determined to accompany him.
part of the morning was spent with Eliza, and ar
rangements for their u nion 'Were easily Liked upon.
No Costly preparations for a wedding were thought
to be necessary.:' 1
Emily devoted herself so entirely to Mr. Thanfield
that Masoh had no opportuiiiity of informing tier re
specting the state of his aflairs.
lie sought hisuncle, expressed to him his grati
tirdi for his kinilness, informed him of the state of
his pecuniary affairs, and of his affections, and ask
ed his approbation of his intended marriage.
"I can'i,eay, George," said the old gentleman,
~b ut that o have done the wisest thing' you could
do. Emil ay not like it. I have nothing to say
against it. didn't do very different myself though
it would li l ardly do to say so aloud now. Emily is to
he married in I three weeks i i You must, be with us
then." (' I 1 ! -
ver so
id not
re you
d iu a
"Suppose I wish to be married myself on the same
"Well I don't know. think you had better be
with us, tlleninake such arrangements as you please,
antfsay nothing to us aboutit. It may make b little
breeze at first, but it will soon blow over. Nobody
will like 3/ou the worse for it in the end." Hearti
ly thattltitg his uncle for I is frankness and affec
tion, andt i aking a courteous leave of Emily he took
his departhre, with Mr. llenfteldi for the city.
r(1 by
I owers.
Id re
1 bk. to
!)(1 with
ent at
! nt as
The white' house-was a scene' of great'activity as
the wedding day drew near, Aunt Mary's services
were put requisition to a rmuch greater extent than
usunl. When she protested that she could do no
more, Mrs. Earl suggested that her niece.would help
her. Aunt Mary could noytelp remarking that Eli
za might have something else to do as well as Miss
Emily. •
It was nderstood that a large number of gusts
were to be invited.-
Many dresses were ord4ed in anticipation of an
invitation s The services of the village dress-maker
were in great demand. Eliza ordered a plain white
dress—a very unnecessary expenditure, : it was
thought, !since it was certain that she would not
receive an invitation. It was a pity that she should
thus, prepare disappointment for herself, poor qi i ng !
Benfield and Mason arrived together on the appoin
ted day. All things were in order. The prepara
tions were complete. The guests assembled—the
"big white' house" was filled as it never had been
filled befo!re. Suddenly there is a hush in the crowd
—the folding-doors are thrown open—the bride and
bridegroom l
are seen, prepared-for the ceremony that
is to maket them one,--in law. The words are spoken.
the ceremony is perfomed, the oppressive silence is
removed+ ' the noise and gayety common to such oc
casions take place.
After rttime, it was noticed by somelhat the pas
tOr, and Mason, and Esq. Ralston had disappeared.
They repaired to Aunt Mary's, where a few tried
friends hid been invited to pass the evening. These
friends were sorry that Eliza had not been invited to
the wedding, but were pleased to End that she did
not seem)to be disappointed—she Was in such fine
.She wore her !law white, and a few roses
in her hair.
The entrance of the pastor, Mr. Mason, and Mr.
Ralston, eemed to cause "no surpriie to Aunt Mary,
though it astonished the assembled guests. ' After
a kind word from the pastor to each One present,
for they were 'all members of. his flock, Mason arose,
and takin
are ready
(1 to a
Joni to
from a
at you
sh the
) upon
sea to
an nev-
I ought
I can
ou to be
dd some
'g Eliza by the hand, said to him, "We
Prayer was offered, the wedding vows
hen, and George Mason and Eliza Austin
,n 1 minced husband and wife.
earl of
Were Spo
Were pro
ing the
a in the
!Fined to have brushed away . the clouds,
at Mary's mind. She conversed with the
nce Of her better dnys. The guests depar
ere the lights were extinguished in the
4 . the white house, it was known through
village that there had been , two wecld lugs
I >f one.
Joy se
from Au
red, and
parlors o
he your
be cloud
1 to be
k before
out the
in.the morning, before the news had reach-
AIL and Mrs. Bonfield set out upon their
tour. Emily learned her consin e emfirriage
( a some paper which informed the public
n. ,
ed them
from th
of her o
[ (loath all
Ho do-
George Mason had no time for a iveddinglour:
He removed his wife and hor aunt immediatly to the
City, and at once resumed the labors of his calling.
Emily did not beCoMe acquainted with Mrs. Me
son, until Mr. Bonfield had failed in buienesa, and
was enabled to commence again, with cdpittil fur
niihed by her cousin, who had become the leading
member of his firm.—Graham's Maurine.
ebitorial, Bettis Zunis, &7r.
We find in the Washington Union, of the Idth, thiee
letters from this distingnished soldier in reply to commu
nications from friends who were anxious to ascertain his
political sentiments. They are eminently characteristic
of a brave soldier 40 1 nn' honest Mini.' and unlike those
that have been so Plentifully given tolito world by anoth
er General, frankly ittiavVer the ivariclus questions pro
pounded. Gen. Worth is a Democrat, and avows his
opinions with the frankness and candor of one, and altho'
whigery has claimed hint fOr more than a yens past; as
indeed it had every officer'who has at all distinguished
himself in the prest war With Mexico, we think:that party
will now be satisfied it was on the track of the wrong coon.
In these letters the General says he is opposed to a United,
States Bank, in favor of the Indfpenclent Treasury irys:
tern, regards 'the Veto Power Issentially dhuocratic,
popular and eonservativc;," thinks that "the right of the
'people of the different sections of our Union toearry their
property (orwhatever kind or complexion) to, and parti
cipate in, the territory about to be acquired from Mexico,
(or acquired from any other power on this continent) can
not lie seriously questioned.
,When the acquired territo
ry shall be admitted into the sisterhood of states;" contin
ues th . i General, "it will be for the admitted states to de
termine all things relating to their own social condition?"
Ilti believes there never has been a "war in our history',
(always excepting that for independence, which stand's
out, and will through all time, a case by itself,) nor in that
of any other people,commenced under greater provocation,,
or waged with higher humanity," than the Mexican war.
He says the scheme for the distribution of the proceeds of
the public lands, however honestly designed is "fraught
with great evil;" and is a most "ingeniously devised to,
orrnpt individuals and musses, States
i and Congress."
tariff o
; In regard to the f '46 he'says abse ee since its pas.;
sage has deprived him of the opportunity of informing
himself, by observation, or comunion with others, as to its
practical operation. ' As a general principle of political
economy, applicable to our institution and eircusmtances,l
he hopes to see a tariff for revenue, critically adjusted to
the various interests and rights of every part of the country,
includingt,every proper and constitutional internal hp
provement--protection regarded as purely incidental-..,
trusting, nevertheless, tasee the day,.and that not remote, •
%Own trade will be free and Unfettered when no interest
of our country will need, or desire, aught of protection
against foreign competition.
In regard td the graduation and reduction of the price
of the public lands, he says, "I would vote any reduction
necessary to place farms within the reach of industrious
bong fide sclrs or emigrants, regarding the early occu
pation and cultivation of the public domain as the richest
public treasure; hoping still to see an annual surplus over
and above expenses of administration—as surveys, sales..
&e.—carried to the public treasury, -to be appropriated
among other national objects, to the improvement of our
grentl akes and rivers, to the extent of constitutional per
mission. It is my settled conviction, that within twenty
years the commerce of the great lakes and western rivers
will reach a magnitude fur exceeding, and ever thereafter
taking the lead of, that flowing to and from the . Attantier_
and when our lines of communication with the points now
attained on the'Pacific are ut cmee established and opened
to the enterprise of our people, there will hardly be found a
term of comparison. We shall exhibit the ordinary spec
tacle; under our free and glorious institutions, of clutch
ing and controlling the commerce of Europe with ono
hand, and the riches of China with the other, I speak of
riches; but the fulfihnent of our high political :and social
destiny is the prominent and grand consideration."
We might contrast the above plain answers to the quei
tions prOpounded, with tips°. of 'Gen. Taylor. 'who pro
claims himself a "Ilenry•Clay whig," buf we forbear.—
The people cannot fail to kee thetlitrerence. and will re:
member it,
Under this head a recent New York True Sun has
sottio very excellent remarks in regard to the many
channels of internal communication which aro daily he=
ing opened between the Atlantic and the
,"greitt west."
If says; in speaking of the opening of the Michigan and ;
Illinois canal, New York has now an internal water way
to New Or ears. , It might have said more
more—that canal
hi not the II st or only one that unites the five great em
poriums of ' the United States. There is , a canal from
Toledo to Cincinnati, from Cleveland to Portsmouth, and ,
from this to Beaver, all preferable. so far as the New
I York trade is concerned; to the new channel alluded to,
from Chico o to the Illinois river. But the Sun say* and
argues truly that the imagination can hardly portion the
ultnrnani effect these, together with the rail roads now
building, will have upon the population, wealth and re
, sources of the Lake country and the Ststo of New York,
Tho Western Lakes will some have a larger marine than
the Mediterranean, and bo surrounded by a denser porn
, lation than is to . bo found even in the countries which
bor i der that great sea. These strides to commercial great
, peas are but the steps of liberty, education and religion,
securely and prosperously advancing to the consumma
tion of human happiness, so far as it may be attained on.
earth. While the old World goes sluggishly 'along, dis
turbed only by the convulsive throes of oppressive hu
manity, as yet not succeeded by tranquillity and security.
The new is rapidly fulfilling its great destiny and inviting
the unhappy of all nations to share its blessings and its
triumphs. Uwe are true to ourselves and to heaven, noth
ing can interrupt our progress. The Western as well as
the Southern States aro now more nearly allied to us than
ever. They are not separated from tis any longerpoliti
cally or 'geographically. We have dailylntereourse with
them by the new invention of the magnetic wire, and ev
ery expression of our thoughts reaches them with the
sped of lightning. We pass to the farthcrest of their
boundaries in a few hours' journey, and find ourselves at
home, Who can tell what this state of things will bring
about. We are as near to Cincinnati in point of time as
our New York *esters once were to Boston. , And with
the diminntioncl' distance we have apparently a geomet
rical ratio of it creased business. Who' is them that
fears to enlarge he boundaries of the republic when there
is an' accempan)fing consolidation and a neW and stronger
affinity? What othernations might dread, wo gladly wet
come, and our s fety lies in tlie creation of new tics, not
1. ,
endangered by the imospition of new shackles, How
much have we t be thankfurfor„ in this state of things?
We should not frget our responsibilities in our prosperity,
nor cease to bo igilant because we aro powerful. In this
view, it is of the highest importance that wo should
here toot
o our c 'titntional organization, and frown down
the tilt nttemp to invade its provisions. We must suf
fer no questions in the abstract, or impracticable feforms
to be ade, the °less issues of the , day, The Constitu
tion, with its patentees and compromises, must be the
"corner stond , ' l of our political creed, and the controlling
power of our po itical action. We must stand by this char
ter of our incloi cadence with firmness and devotion, and
maintain its integrity against all interpolations. In this
way we may hail with pleasure every new dbyclopeiheni
of power, Industrial and commercial, and instead of fear
ing the increase of oiir numbers, may regard it with sat:.
isfaction. To our brethren in the West, tvq - can say wit h .
fraternal feeling, We are bone of your bonot and flesh of
your flesh. Let us join hadds tts melt ns hearts, in this
march of greatness, and be forever one and ifidiiisible.
VALVE NritSrirrlS:—Tfie Detroit Free Press very
justly observes that if there ever was a time when news; .
papers were of great value, it is the present. Every week
we have netts from the old world, *here revolution suci.
coeds revoltition with shell rapidity as to excite the most
intense anxiety for the future. No one, with feelings and
sympathies in common - v.lth the rest of mankind, ,can
avoid( being deeply interested in scenes that affect
the interests of so many millions of his fellow creatures,
or de'sirotis of learning the triumphs demOcracy is making
.Ovei.desksin. In our owe country, questions of great
magnitude are now occupying public attention. A crisis,
not of less consequence to us than the news from abroad,
is fast approaching. Congress lain session; and the pri.
mazy steps for another Presidential campaign are being
taken: In vie* of all this, who can lay claim to ordinary
intelligence and not be a readerof a well conducted news
paper. Surely such amen, if ono can be found, posaes
i3CB but fr4'of the characteristics of a patriot or philan-
I threPist Worths. the privileges of the best government in
the y World.
The election for President of the United States,
takes place in every State in the Union on one and the
same day, tltt ith of November; so that through the tele.
graph communications, we shall have the result of the
elections a few hold-0 after the polls dose:
THE BM:Ell-PLACE OF GREAT Mcs.--There appears
to be a singular coincidence in the birth-place of the can.
didates of the two parties for the Presidency, Theer
were born in Noir - Hampshire. to wit: Cass, Woodburn,
and Webster, and three in Virginia. to wit: Clay, Taylor
and Scott. They were all too, in both States, born with
in a circle of less than a hundred miles. Webster was
born in Concord, Cass in Exeter and Woodbury in' Fran'.
cistown. In Virginia, Clay was born in Hanover.- Tay.
for In Orange. about fifty miles from Clay's birth-place,
and Scott in Dinwiddie, about the same distance from
Hanover. - It is an interesting fact, which is not gener
ally knoWn, that three of the Presidents of United States
were born in one county, ('Vestmore,) Virginia, and one
of the poorest counties in the State. Now Hampshire is
not far behind Virginia in hi .r contributors to the galav of
our distinguished men. There are no less than seven
members of the present Senate who', were born, in-)that
Capt. p. Orrtsimit, of the Revenue service, arrived
here on Friday - evening, havinghtn deputed btj, the
Govement to dismantle the the stea ter Dallas and I talto
her to the ocean. She will be passed through the Wel
land Canal, down the St. Lawrence, and from thence to
her place of destination. The British Government very
readily acquiesced in the wishes of our own, to allow-the
vessel to pass through her waters, and directed that no
toll on her be ukkett The-Dallas designed for the coli4
PnErry GOOD.—The Editor of the Detroit Free Fres,
says that within a few days he has conversed with a num
ber of Whigs from Wisconsin, who generally deny; that
there has been any election, , Poor fellows, after net fill
there will not be enough of them left to hold a corotter's
inquest over the defunct Whig party, Wisconsin is OW
ID" The Georgia Whig Convention named Gen. Tay
lor as their first choice' for the Presidency, and reCont
mended him to the Whig National Convention for nomi
nftm. They have agreed to send delegates, al will
stfport the nominee of the Convention, provided I e. be
sound on the question involving Southern rights.
.QUITE A DIFFERENCE —Siz years ago, says the Ban.
gor Courier,-Potatoes were selling at twenty -bye cents
per bushel, and it took six bushels at that price to pay for
a bushel of corn. Now a bushel of corn will not pay for
a bushel of I . )otatoes.
Mime th i an that in - "these Biggins." Ono_ bush
potatoes wit/ buy nearly two bushels of corm .1!
must try agbin
11 Jlf. 11 Chartl Tolei; senior:editor of the Rich
died tin Monday last, in the forty-ninth y
Phis age.
RELIEF volt YUCATAN.—CoI. J. Anthony King
notice through the columns of the 1%7, Y. True Sn
ho intends offering his services to thetnited State:
erument to' assist in saving the whites from being
minated by the savageli who now threaten them, for
purpose he wishes to raise u force of :2000 ,to, 3000
C o L Ki ng , as we are informed, has long resided i
South American States; and can doubtless give
deal of valuable information in regard to the charact
condition of the country, its government, Si.c.
Gov. Suess.—The Washington Union Tory
nently remarks that soave of the Whig papers seer
anxious that this worthy Idemocrat should die pet%
constitutional term of office expires, and therefo
nuently report him an dangerously ill: when, in f
learn from the very besi of authority that ho nev i
been dangerously ill, and at the present time is
good health—eats heartily, sleep; soundly, attends
donco of its prOsPerity.
We are glad to perceive that extensive coal field
been discovered in the Republic of Chili, for,a
climate will naturally find them serviceable.
An cxchange ittfortna us that a num in the De
wishes he had the small pox, so that he could Gr ra
It is saidi..—by some Yankee, of course—to be a
lent plan always to .2ncasuro a man's length be
kick him, for it is better to bear an i l usult than to m
unsuccessful attempt at thrashing la fellow, and
eye teeth knocked out.
There is living in Moscow, Russia, a vencra
who is ohly 16 years of age. Sho has had five hi'
and the gay old belle married the last one in he l
"Bow !finch to publish this death?" said a CUB
the office of aN. York paper. "Four shillings.'
I paid but two shillings this last time I publishe . 1
"That was a common death, but this is 'sin , .
gretcd.' " "I tell von what," said the customs
ing down the four shillings, "your executors i
be put to that expense.
A WORD TO POETSir NeW Prleans 'Cre
that it's very easy for afe low, seated in his co
study, with the assurance iif a nice income eve
write those poems about ' 'AO'S for the best." a
a good heart. whatever betide you;" 4c. But ti
comes to him who hasn't to dollar on earth, no
meat, and is gnawed by an ambitious vulture in h.
A FEMALE PATRltEr.—Among tho loading in
at Milan, was a young woman, a dress mzik
wrested a carbine; frtim a dragoon, and took the cl
of the defenders of abarricadc which was assails
Croats, several of whom Oro said to hayo boon s
by this Amazon.
A young Eilesliman was arrested a few day.
Oswego. for smuggling Mailable matter from C ,
the American steamer. He managed, however
his escape front his capters.
Jar of
', that
.r and
o his
~t, we
r hoe
'to hie
oit jail
re you
.ko an
t your
k 121st
mer at
ly ro,
!nt says
s htiart
r, who
by the
of dead
glace at
oda • for
to make