■i>
A NE VV STOCK
OF
J.JCXlS, CJassimeres
AND
VEST! NGB,
Has j"' l ' ieen recc ived at Hie Lewistown
fiwwriii of Fashion, which will be made up
, -,j 5 tvperienced workmen.
■(: -niletnen arc requested to call.
WAI. LINO.
n. April 01, 1859.
*■' : * .. -i iately occupied by
: • > & .1 ulikiu.
.UAa SSIASHKS IP®IB
SARSAISrSi
Credit to Hesponsible
Men!
The subscriber having now on
H hand one of the best and largest
A st icks between Philadelphia and
'-burgh, in order to accom
ihe times, offers for sale a
of
bridles, Collars, Trunks,
jiises, Carpet Bags,
- ! his line, which will be
.u chases are made to the
: i .re, on the aboye teyms for
will be found some highly
At Harness to any mgn
;'>pd articles, by ?x
--i . g.ve hitit a call.
.lOII.N DAVIS.
i-i -wii, April 7, 1653.
;.y Fall and Winter Goods.
f if. i.LLIS, of the late firm of* McCoy
n. * i * :ilis . has just returned front the city
Tdi > choice assortment of
Dry Goods and Groceries,
-ted with care and purchased for cash,
.1, ~ ff red to the public at a small ad
s'.. The stock of Dry Goods ciu
i -captions of
SD WINTER GOODS
! . Gentlemen and Children,
■.uterus. Uij
1 ,i£C€tlCS
■mimirs, Molasses, Java, ltio
•.. ■.uperior Teas, &e. Also,
- Queensware, and all other
mid in stores —all which
iat" firm and the public
mvued to examine.
It. F. ELLIS.
Skit, Plaster and Coal always on
unity Produce received as usual and the
... i..,.iP t p.ice allowed therefor.
Li-wist ovn, Sept. 22, lftoO.
HUBERT W. I'ATTON,
sot til SIDE OF NIUTIBT STREET,
I.EU ISTOU x, PA.
I I AS just received and opened at his es
-1 L tabiishment a new supply of
Clocks. Watches, Jewelry,
Fancy Articles, &c.,
'<:. ill !.o will dispose of at reasonable prices,
lie invites all to give him a call aud examine
• ~ ... which embraces all articles in his
i'-vtiy Lrgc to enable all to
desire to purchase.
• M . itlv and expeditiously
. . work warranted.
. ;nmag ht-rvt f*re re
p etfulh asks . continuance of
o.; ,i 1! endeavor to please all who
. tb ir custom. feb'2
. V/ARD FRYSINGER,
■ DEALER & TIAMFACTIRER
OF
oldliV riißUttl.SM FF.
3>Ao
Or it- promptly attended to. jelC
S2C. 7T. ELDER,,
Attorney at Law,
OSfe Market Square, Lewistown, will at-
U d to . in MllHin, Centre and Hunting
•io:, c -unties. tay26
JNO. R. WEEKES,
Justice of the Peace,
trtitocufv X Sbuvtjfwor,
"E West Market street. Lewistown, next
Irwin's grocery. ap29
REMOVAL.
S. S. CUMMINOS
'■■W announce that he has rc
is office to Mrs. Mary Marks'
Lhug ana Variety Store, on east Market street,
1 ! .j; w doors below the Union House.
the Post Office has also been removed to the
'fflßsd lace. mb3l if
Wanted! Wanted!
i , j | U || i PERSONS of both sexes to
J ' * \ make money by buying cheap
-''en.-.. Ba-kets, Tubs, Buckets, Churns,
v atet Cans, Brooms, Brushes, &c. &c. at
aiJ g4 ZERBE'S.
nONFY, by the gallon, for sale by
- declo A FELIX.
2masr ® aiE) a2 ® ffi-j ®js®iE®is Mxmsfmms 9 mmwra <msxws sus*
THE MINSIHEL
The Mountains of T,ife.
By JAMES a. CLARE.
There's a land far away, 'mid the stars we are told,
Where they know not the sorrows of time;
Where the pure waters wander thro' valleys of gold.
And life is a treasure sublime,
1 is tie' land of our God—'tis the home of the soul,
\V here ages of splendor eternally roll;
Where the way-weary traveler reaches his goal,
On the ever-green mountains of life.
<>ur gaze cannot soar to that beautiful hind,
Hot our visions have told of its bliss;
And our sonls by the gale from its gardens are fanned,
When we faint in the deserts of this.
And we sometimes have longed for it-; liolv repose,
When our spirits were torn with temptation and woes;
And we ve drank from the tide of the river that Hows
From the ever-green mountains of life.
O. tin* stars never tread the blue heavens at night.
Hut we think where the ransomed have trod;
And the day never - miles from hi- palace of light,
Hut we feel the bright smile of our God.
\\ e are traveling homeward thro' changes ami gloutn.
To a kingdom where pleasures unceasingly bloom.
And our guide is the glory that shines thro' the gloom,
From the ever-green mountain- of life.
living Worship.
What is it that hinders us individually
froui finding in the Go-pel all that we
ought to find in it, or l'rom experiencing
in life a greater share of those comforts
which God has promised to give to his
peeplg? \\ hat is it for instance, that makes
us so often leave the church unimproved,
or eoiue to it with a dull and careless spirit,
as to a weekly task, or at best a familiar
form ? 5\ hat has become of the blessing
Christ has promised upon our hearty pray
ers, or of his assurance that, where two or
three are gathered together in his name,
there is he in the midst of them? What
should become of them, when we come here
in a spirit of unbelief, so that our prayers
are anything hut prayers of faith? 1 moan
by the spirit of unbelief, n,g any doubts
about this or that doctrine of Cristianity—
still loss about the truth of Christianity it
self—hut a want of a true lively sense of
the reality of what we are engaged in—a
conviction that God as surely hears us as
we are uttering our prayers to him —that
Jesus Christ is as truly interceding for us
at the right hand of God, as we are pray
ing for ourselves it! the church ; that the
Holy spirit will as certainly aid and enliv
en in our devotion, as we are kneeling on
our knees, and offering them up with our
lips. This is the faith which is wanting
to us —a faith which would make the ser
vice of the church as much a matter of
real and earnest business, as any request
we may put to one of our neighbors as soon
as we leave the church.
If we say to ourselves before we leave
our homes, 'Now 1 am going to speak to
my Maker, in company with my brethren;
we are all of us together, going to tell him
what we want, and say how much we all
love and honor him. We are going, also,
to hear him speak to gs, and tell what he
wishes us to do, and assure us again what
he means to do for us. Since 1 was last in
his house, 1 kuov for my own part, that I
have thought of him much less than 1
should have done. I ljijve dene things
which he does not like and left undone his
commands. 1 have therefore, much to say
to him, and I must ask him more earnest
ly to guard me from evil for the time to
come, and that. I may love him more and
serve him better.' If we were to say and
think to ourselves something of this sort,
we should regard our coining thither more
as a matter of real business —as a thing in
which a great deal was to be done—rather
ban as a weekly ceremony, which we do
not like to omit, though we find it some
times rather tedious and unmeaning. Of
course, it is unmeaning to hiui who joins
in it without faith—as unmeaning and
senseless as if the service were still, as in
the Roman Catholic Church, read, in a
threat degree in Latin. But God cannot
make his good things plain to us, if our
hearts are hardened; nor can he show forth
in us the mighty works of his grace, if he
finds in us nothing but a dull and evil heart
of unbelief. — Arnold.
Persevering Frayer.
The persevering prayer of faith is per
haps the most difficult as well as the sub
limest exercise of which the human mind
is capable. It demands the sustained ex
ertion of the highest moral ami spiritual
qualities, lie who thus prays must have
a habitual overshadowing sense of the
presence of God —a filial spirit, resting in
the assurance of his parental character and
relation —a clear anticipation of that fu
ture judgment which will fix his eternal
state — a pres°ing conviction of his infinite
need of Gods favor —an undying Jove to
G 0( ] —an elevation of soul above the world
and its delusive promises—a confidence in
the power and willingness of God to grant
his petitions, wfcicj} no present disaster,
nor lengthened delay, in the answer to pray
er can repress.
If such are the necessary conditions of
the persevering prayer of faith, we cannot
wonder that the Scriptures abound in en
forcements of it, and heap up promises, ar
guments, illustrations, at the door of our
unbelieving hearts, to quicken and sustain
our flagging spirits in their approaches to
THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 1860,
thc throne of grace. And blessed be God
that such inducements abound in his Holy
\\ ord ; that no trial, temptation, sorrow,
perplexity, nor even sin can overtake them,
from which they may be delivered by a
resort to this sure refuge. God is more
ready to hear than we to pray; more ready
to give than we to ask. 'lf a son ask
bread of any of you that is a father, will
he give him a stone; or if he ask a fish
will he fur a fish give him a serpent; or if
he ask an egg will he offer him a scorpion?
If ye, thou, being evil, know how to give
good gifts to your children, how much more
shall your I[eayeply Father give good
things to them that ask him?'
A Slave Sells his K aster.
Mathew Hobson, (generally called' Black
Matt/ on account of the darkness of his
complexion,) was well known by the inhab
itants of the seaboard of A'irginia seine
years ago as a slave-dealer, and an accom
plished 'breaker-in' of bad flesh. He once
purchased a bright mulatto by the name of
iSam, a: a very low price, on account of his
nuiiKroua 1 'd qualities, such as thieving,
lying and drunkenness. Sam was intelli
gent with all his faults —could read and
write, and ape the airs cf a polished gen
tleman. lie was so far relieved, too, lrom
the pure African, that he could scarcely
be distinguished from a white ipap. On his
becoming tike property of the slave dealer,
lie received several severe admonitions, in
order that he might have a foretaste of tho
temper of his master. Secretly he vowed
vengence for these striking proofs of Matt's
affection, and in a short time an opportuni
ty offered to gratify that vengeance.
Matt made up his gang and shipped
them at Norfolk. The barque arrived safe
ly at New Orleans, and was brought to the
wharf. In order that Sam might bring a
good price, he v.\ip togged off in fine clothes
—calf skin hoots, ;:silk hat, and kid gloves.
Matt thought by this external show to
realize at least 31,500 for the mulatto, as
the body servant of some rich planter.
Si in was consequently allowed to go on
shore in order to show himself off. He
proceeded to the Alhambraand there strut
ted about among the best of them. Hear
ing a portly gentleman remark that lie wish
ed to purchase a good body servant, he
went up to him and with an independent
swagger, said :
'My dear sir, 1 have got just the boy
that will suit you.'
'lla !' rejoined the planter, ' I am glad
to hear you say so, for I have been looking
for one lor several days. What do you ask
for hiui V
'Nine hundred dollars,' replied Sam,
'and cheap enough at that. He has every
quality —can shave, dress hair, brush hoots,
and is, besides, polished in his manners,
f could have got fifteen hundred dollars
for him, but for one fault.'
' 11a!' ejaculated the planter; ' and pray
what kind of fifult is that?'
f Why, pr, a ridiculous one. He imag
ines himself a white man.'
' A wliite man !' exclaimed the planter,
laughing; 'that is a funny conceit.—l've
had considerable experience in training and
managing gentlemen of color.'
' Oh 1 sir,' continued Sum, ' there is but
little doubt that he can be cured—tho' you
may find soup? trouble at first.'
' Well, sir, you appear to be a gentleman,'
said the planter, who \VQ.S rattier too anxious
and confiding. ' I will take him at your
recommendation. Where is he now?'
' On board the barque yonder at
the wharf; you can see him at any mo
ment.'
'Good!' exclaimed the planter:'! am
much pleased with your honesty and can
dor, and in order to ggve time here are
your nine hundred dollars —please give me
a bill of sale.'
Sam got the clerk to draw up a bill of
sale, signed the name of Samuel Hopkins,
pocketed the money, and told the planter
to ask the captain for Black Matt; he would
himself be on board as soon as he had clos
ed a bargain with another gentleman, who
was desirous of purchasing one of his field
hands.
The pursey planter made his way to the
barque, and demanded of the captain to see
the boy Black Matt. The officer pointed
to Mathew Ilobson, who sat on the quarter
deck, smoking his cigar, and superintend
ing the debarkation of his slaves.
' Are you Black Matt, my fine fellow ?'
asked the planter, addressing the slave
merchant.
4 Folks call me so at hum,' was the re
ply, 4 but here my name's Mathew llobson.
What do you want?'
4 I'll tell you, Matt, what I want. I
want you. You're a likely looking fellow,
and will just suit me.'
4 Look 'ye here, stranger,' said Matt, fir
ing up, 4 maybe you don't know who you're
speaking to/
4 Yes I do, though—you're my property;
I bought you of your master, Samuel Hop
kins, just now, and —'
4 You bought me!' exclaimed Matt,
standing up at full length before the plan
ter : 4 hell and the devil, sir—l'm a white
man !'
4 Come, come, now,' calmly said the fat
man, 4 it won't do—l know you —you can't
humbug me with your conceits—l'll whip
it out of you sir—l'll teach you—'
Here Matt drew back and aimed a blow
at the ruddy nogecf the planter, who seized
him by the throat, and bellowed for the
police. An officer happened to be on the
levee—be at tho ipAaucc of the planter
seized the refractory slave and bore him to
the calaboose, where he remained until ev
idence could be procured identifying him
as a free-born white of the United'
States.
Sam, in the meantime, gpt on board a
ship that was just weighing anchor for a
European port, and has never b?en heard
of since. I hus the rascal had his revenge.
Matt lost his slave, and the 'green' fat gen
tleman his money.
A Singular 1 islon. —A short tiinesinca,
a family by the name of Horn ton, removed
to a neighboring city from Augusta, Maine,
the native place of Mrs. liornton. Mrs.
Horn ton left behind her an aged mother,
living with her brother. Until recently a
regular correspondence has been kept up
between herself and her brother, hut du
ring the past three weeks received no ti
dings from them. She naturally became
anxious, but her husband attributed it to
d 'ay or neglect, and she tried to banish
the matter from her mind. Last Saturday
morning, at the breakfast table, her daugh
ter related to the family that she had seen
her grandmother during the night, stand
ing at her side perfectly motionless. That
she addressed her, but she never moved a
feature of her face, but stared at her with
glassy eyes and looked as if she was dead.
Mr. liornton laughed at the idea, and told
her it was nothing, but she insisted in the
most emphatic manner that she was asleep.
Mr. H. again endeavored to repel the idea,
and the matter was dropped. On Tuesday
morning Mrs. Horntou received a letter
from hep brother at Augusta, stating that
their mother was dead, and that t>he died
on Thursday night, the night previous to
that op which th? yujoii appealed to her
daughter.
Not Green. —Some twenty-live o thirty
years ago, an Irishman, Win. Patterson, left
Erin's green isle to find a home In Amer
ica. Having friends In the region of Fair
Haven, Ohio, he made his way thither.
Taking dinner one day the house of Dr.
P , he was treated to the American
dish, wholly new to him, of green corn in
the ear. Unwilling, however, to be
thought green himself, or being anxious to
display unusual sagacity, alter having
eagerly devoured the savory corn, his appe
tite still lie passed up his de
spoiled cob, with the very natural request,
" Please put some more IHISC on my
stick!"
Expensive Weed. —A gentleman, a ros
idout of New York, while en route for
Baltimore, from Washington, oil Wednes
day, accompanied by bis wife, when at
Kendall Green Station, drew from his
pocket what lie supposed to be a piece of
tobacco, but which proved to be a roll of
bank notes amoupfipg to two hundred and
fifty dollars. Before the gentleman could
remedy the mistake, his wife snatched the
supposed tobacco from his grasp g::J play
fully threw it from the window. The
train was through express, apd the conduc
tor could not stop. The loser of the
" weed" came on to Baltimore, and return
ed in the 5:20 train to look up the money,
with what success we have not heard.
Sympathy for the Pope. —During a mass
meeting of Boinan Catholics in Montreal,
on Sunday, February 10th, to express feel
ings for the Pope, and presided over by
the Bishop of Montreal, several fiery
speeches were delivered, denouncing the
Emperor Napoleon without stint, as 'a mis
erable man, a professed Catholic, a practi
sed hypocrite, a revolutionary tyrant, who
in all probability has made a bargain with
the secret societies, that, in return for the
guarantee of his life against the assassin's
O # O
blade, he will let loose, as he has already
done, revolution in Italy.'
A Little Girl Burned to Death while
at Prayer. —A shocking camphene acci
dent occuired in Cincinnati last week and
an only child, a little girl about five years
old, was fatally injured, and her mother
badly burned. The child had just conclu
ded its evening prayer preparatory to reti
ring for the night, when the mother picked
up a camphene lamp, which fell from her
hand, and breaking, the contents were
thrown all over the clothing of the girl.
She was almost instantly enveloped in a
sheet of flame, and before it could be ex
tinguished was so shockingly burned that
she died soon after. The mother in en
deavoring to save her child from the de
vouring element, was also bally burned
about the body and arms.
Hold On. —Hold on to your tongue
when you are ready to swear, lie, cr speak
harshly, or use an improper word.
Hold on to your temper whin you are
angry, excited, or imposed upon, or others
are angry about you.
Hold on to your good name at all times,
for it is more precious to you than gold,
high plaees or fashionable attire.
Hold on to good rather than evil, even
at pecuniary loss.
miTIEAL
SPEECH:
m E lewirb,
OF NEW VOiilv.
COXCLfI>KI>.
1 will not linger over the sequel. The pop
ular sovereignty of Kansas proved to be the
State sovereignty of Missouri, not only in the
persona of the rulers, but even in the letter
of an arbitrary and cruel code. The perfect
freedom proved to be a hateful and intolera
ble bondage. From 1855 to 1800, Kansas,
sustained and encouraged only by the ltepub
lican party, has been engaged in successive
and ever varying struggles, which have taxed
all her virtue, wisdom", moderation, energies,
and resources, and often oven her p! j i.-al
strength and martini courag", t . .<■ herself
from being betrayed into the t ni.ui as a siave
state. Nebraska; though choosing freedom,
is, through the direct exercise of the Execu
tive power, overruling her own will, held as
a slave Territory ; and New Mexico has rc
lapsed voluntarily into the practice of slavery,
from which she lmd redeemed herself while
she yet remained a part of the Mexican re
public. Meantime the Democratic party, ad
vancing from the ground of popular sover
eignty as far as that ground is from the ordi
nance of 1787, now stands on the position
that both Territorial Governments and Con
gress are incompetent to legislate against
slavery in the Territories, while they are not
only competent, but are obliged, when it is
necessary, to legislate for its protection there.
In this new and extreme position the Dem
ocratic party now masks itself behind the
battery of the Supreme Court, as if it were
possible a true construction of the Consitu
tion, that the power of deciding practically
forever between freedom and slavery iuapor
tion of the continent far exceeding all that is
yet organized, should be renounced by Con
gress, which alone possesses any legislative
authority, and should be assumed and oxer
cised by a court which can only take cogni
zance of the great question collaterally, in a
private action between individuals, and which
action the Constitution will not suiter ibe
court to entertain, if it involves twenty
dollars of money, without the overruling in
tervention of a jury of twelve good and law
ful men of the neighborhood where the liti
gation arises. The independent, ever-renew
ed, and ever-recurring representative Parlia
ment, Diet, Congress, or Legislature, is the
one chief, paramount, essential, indispensa
ble institution in a Republic. Even liberty,
guarantied by organic law, yet if it be held
by other tenure than tho guardian care of
such a representative popular assembly, is
but precariously maintained, while slavery,
enforced by an irresponsible judicial tribunal,
is the completcst possible development of des
potisin.
Mr. President, did ever the annals of any
Government show a more rapid or more com
plete departure from the wisdom and virtue
of its founders ? Did ever the Government
of a great empire, founded on the rights of
human labor, slide away so fast and so far,
and moor itself so tenaciously on the basis of
capital, and that capital invested in laboring
men? Did ever a free representative legisla
ture, invested with powers so great, and with
the guardianship of rights EO important, of
trusts so sacred, of interests so precious, and
of hopes at once so noble and so comprehen
sive, surrender and renounce them so unneces
sarily, so unwisely, so fatally, and so inglori
ously? If it be true, as every instinct of our
nature, and every precept of political experi
cuee teaches us, that
'• 111 fares the land, to hastening ills a prey.
Where wealth accumulates and men decay,"'
then where in Ireland, in Italy, in Poland, or
in Hungary, has any ruier prepared for a
generous and confiding people disappoint
ments, disasters and calamities equal to those
which the Government of the United States
holds now suspended over so largo a portion
of the continent of North America?
Citizens of the United States in the spirit
of this policy, subverted the free republic of
Nicaragua, and opened it to slavery and the
African slave trade, and held it in that con
dition waiting annexation to the United States,
until its sovereignty was restored by a combi
nation of sister republics exposed to the same
danger, and apprehensive of similar subver
sion. Other citizens re-opened the foreign
slave trade in violation of our laws and treat
ics; and, after a suspension of that shameful
traffic for fifty years, savage Africans have
been once more landed on our shores and
distributed, unreclaimed and with impunity,
among our plantations.
For this policy, so far as the Government
has sanctioned it, the Democratic party avows
itself responsible. Everywhere complaint
against it is denounced, and its opponents
proscribed. When Kansas was writhing un
der the wounds of incipient servile war be
cause of her resistance, the democratic press
deridingiy said, ' let her bleed.' Official in
tegrity has been cause for rebuke and punish
ment, when it resisted frauds designed to pro
mote the extension of slavery. Throughout
the whole Republic there is not one known
dissenter from that policy remaining in place,
if within reach of the Executive arm. Nor
over the face of the whole world is there to
be found one representative of our country
who is not an apologist of the extension of
slavery.
It is in America that these things have
happened. In the nineteenth century, the
era of the world's greatest progress, and while
all nations but ourselves have been either
| abridging or altogether suppressing commerce
i in men ; at the very moment when the Rus
sian serf 13 emaneipnted, and the Georgian
captive, the Nubian prisoner, and the Abhys
sinian savage are lifted up to freedom by the
successor of Mohammed. The world, pre
possessed in our behalf, by our early devotion
to the rights of human nature, as no nation
ever before engaged its respect and sympa
thies asks in wonder and amazement what
all this demoralization means? It has an ex
cuse better than the world can imagine, bat-
New Series—Vol. XIV, No. 19.
ter than we are generally conscious of our
selves, a virtuous excuse. "
We have loved not freedom so much less,
but the Union of our conntry so much more.
We have been made to believe, from time to
time, that, in a crisis, both of these precious
; institutions could not be saved together, and,
therefor?, we have, from time to time, surren
dered safeguards of freedom to propitiate the
loyalty of capital, and stay its hands from do
ing violence to the Union. The true state of
the case, however, ought not to be a mystery
to ourselves. Prescience, indeed, is not given
to statesmen; but we are without excuse when
we fad to apprehend tfia logic &f current
events. Let par tie's, or the Government,
choose to do what they may, the people of
the United States do not prefer the weaith of
the few to the liberty of the many, capital to
labor, African slaves to white freemen, in tho
National Territories and in future States.
That question has never been distinctly rec
i.'gni/..'d or acted on by them. The Republi
can party embodies the popular protest and
reaction against a policy which has been
fastened upon the nation b\ r surprise, and
which its reason and conscience, concurring*
with the reason and conscience of mankind,
condemn.
The choice of the nation is now between
the Democratic party and the Republican par
ty. It- priiiei,' and policy are, therefore,
justly and even .. Tcssarily examined. I knew
of only o'rsa policy which it has adopted or
avowed, namely, the saving of the Territories
of the United States, if possible, by constitu
tional and lawful means, from being homes
for slavery and polygamy. Who that consid
ers where this nation exists, of what races it
is composed, in what age of the world it acts
its part on the public stage, and what are its
predominant institutions, customs, habits,
and sentiments, doubts that the Republican
party can, and will, if unwaveringly faithful
to that policy and just and loyal in all be
sides, carry it into triumphal success ? To
doubt is to be uncertain whether civilisation
can improve, or Christianity save, mankind.
i may, perhaps, infer from the necessity of
the case, that it will, in al! Chnrts and'places)
stand L'j tL frec.U'p of speech ami of the
pre. ;, and tW'constitutional rights of free
men everywhere: that it will favor the speedy
improvement ul the puhiic domain by home
stead laws, and will encourage mining, man
ulacturing, and internal commerce, with need
ful connections between the Atlantic and Pa
cific States—for all these arc important inter
ests of freedom, por all the rest, the nation
al emergencies, not individual influences,
must determine, as society goes on the policy
and character of the Republican party. Al
ready bearing its part in legislation and in
treaties, it feels the necessity of being practi
cal in its care of the national health and life,
while it leaves metaphysical speculation to
those whose duty it is to cultivate the enno
bling science of political philosophy.
But, in the midst of these subjects, or rath
er, before fully reaching them, the Republi
can party encounters, unexpectedly, a new
and potential issue—one prior, and therefore
paramount to all others, one of national life
and death. Just as if eo much had not al
ready been conceded : pay, just as if nothing
at all had ever been conceded to the interest
of capital invested in men, wc hear menaces
of disunion, louder, more distinct, more em
phatic than ever, with the condition annexed
that they shall be executed the moment that a
Republican Administration, though constitu
tionally elected, ehalj assume the Government.
I do not certainly know that the people arc
prepared to call such an Administration to
power. I know only that, through a succes
sion of floods which never greatly excite, and
ebbs which never entirely discourage me, the
volume of Republicanism rises continually
higher and higher. They are probably wise
whose apprehensions admonish them that it
is already strong enough for efleet.
Hitherto the Republican party has been
content with one self-interrogatory—how ma
ny votes it can cast? These threats enforce
another—has it determination enough to cas;;
them? This latter question touches its spirit
and pride. lam quite sure, however, that as
it has hitherto practiced self-denial in so ma
ny other forms, it will in this emergency lay
aside all impatience of temper, together with
all ambition, aud will consider these extraor
dinary declamations seriously, and with a
just moderation. It would he a waste of
words to demonstrate that they are unconsti 1 -
tutional, and equally idle to show* that the
responsibility for disunion attempted or effec
ted must rest, not with those who, in the ex
ercise of constitutional autnoritj 7 , maintain
the Government, hut with those who uncon
stitutionally engage in the mad work of sub
verting it.
What are the excuses for these menaces ?
They resolve themselves into this : the Re
-1 publican p art y ' n the North is hostile to the
South. Jjut it already is proved to be a ma
jority in the North; it is therefore practically
the people of the North. Will it not still bo
the same North that has forborne with you so
long and conceded to voir so much? Can
you justly assume that affection which has
been so complying can all at once change to
hatred intense and inexorable?
You .uy that the Republican party is
a sectional one. Is the Democratic party less
sectional? Is it easier for us to bear your
sectional sway than for you to bear ours? Is
it unreasonable that for once we should alter
nate? But is the Republican party section
al ? Not unless the Democratic party is.
fba Republican party prevails in the House
of Representatives sometimes.: tlm Democrat
ic partv in the Senate always. \N hich of the
two is the most proscriptive ? Come, if you
will, into the free States, into the State of
Now York, anywhere from Lake Erie to Sag
Harbor, among my neighbors in the Owasco
vallev; hold your Conventions, nominate your
candidates, address the people, submit to
them, fully, earnestly, eloquently, all your
complaints and grievances of Northern dis
loyalty, oppression perfidy; keep nothing
back, speak just as freely and as loudly there
as you do here; you will have hospitable wel
comes and appreciating audiences, with bal
lot-boxes, open for all the vote 3 you can win.
Are you less sectional than this? Extend to
us the same privileges, and I will engage that
you will soon have in the South as many Re
publicans as we have Democrats in the North.