Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, April 09, 1857, Image 1

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    0):; DOLLAR PER ANNUM, INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE,
TOWANDA :
tLlnrG&flu LUornmn, April D, 1837.
SWcttcb
ALL THINGS ARE OF GOD.
Th.iu art, O God, the life and light,
Of all this wondrous world we see ;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from thee ;
Where'er we turn, Thy glories shine.
And all things fair and bright arc thine.
When day, with farewell beam, delays
Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze
Through opening vistas into Heaven —
Those lines that mark the sun's decline,
S > soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine.
When night, with wing's ,f starry gloom,
OVrshadows all the earth and shies,
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes.
That sacred gloom, those fires divthe.
So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
When youthful spring around us breathes,
Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh ;
And every flower that Summer wreaths
is horn beneath thy kindling eye ;
Where'er we turn thy glories shine,
A: I all things fair anil bright are thine.
§c 1 f 111 b (1 a 11.
KATEHEARN'SHUSBAND
In the year seventeen hundred and sixty
the little town of Harford was thrown
into a state of great excitement by the intelli
gence that a gentleman (and "quite the tren
i! man," said the landlord of the George Inn,)
i id been looking at Mr. t.'htvering's old house.
Hie gentleman was tall, well-dressed, hand
-oine ; but there was a sinister, cold look in
ills quick-glancing; light blue eye, wuicli a
keen observer might not have liked
The White House was re-stuccoed, and put
••to thorough repair by the accomodating and
delighted landlord ; while fa's tenant seemed
lined to spend any amount of money on in
• Tii.'.l decorations, which re showy and ef
'A live in their character, e icn. h to make the
White House a nine days wonder to the good
i |>'e of Harford. The slate-coloured paints
nine pink, and wore dicked out with gold ;
. old fasioned banisters were replaced with
; ewiv-gilt ones ; and, above all, the stables
ire a sight to be seen. Since the days of
the Roman Emperors there never was such
revisions made for the care, the comfort, and
tip' health of animals. But every one said it
v. is no wonder, when they were led through
Harford, covered up to the eyes, but curving
'heir arched and delicate necks and prancing
■ vith short high steps, in repressed eagerness.
Onlv one groom came with them, yet they re
'juircl the care of three men. Mr. lliggins,
jwever, preferred engaging two lads of Bar
"1. and Harford approved of his preference.
Not only was it kind and thoughtful to give
inplovment to the lounging lads themselves,
m tiny were receiving such a training in Mr.
Higgiu's stables as might lit them for Doucas
-1 ' r or Newmarket; The district of I)erby
iire in which Harford was situated, was too
in-p to Leiceislershire not to support a hunt
I Kid a pack of hounds The master of the
muds was a certain Sir Harry Mauley, who J
is out a huntsman ant n nUirs. lie measured
t man by the length of his limb, not by the
j re-siou of his countenance or the shape of
- head. But, as Sir Harry was wont to oli
ve, there was such a thing as too long a
so his approbation was withheld until lie
i ! seen a man on horseback ; and if his seat
re was square and easy, his hand light and
-courage good, Sir ilarry hailed him as a
' rothcc.
Mr. lliggins attended the first meet of the
-on, not as a subscriber, but as an amateur
Toe Harford huntsmen piqued themselves on
.ir bold riding, and their knowedgc of the
mtrycame by nature ; Vet this new, strange
Kan, whom nobody knew was in at the death,
'ling on the horse, both well breathed and
em, without a hair turned oil the sleek skin
• die latter, supremely addressing the old
untstnan as he hacked off the tail of the fox
'Then Sir Harry rode into the copse—Full of
ml brush and wet tangled grass—and was
' lowed by the members of the hunt, as one
: 'me they cantered past, Mr. lliggins took
* his cap and bowed —half deferentially, hall
- 'leiitly—with a lurking smile in the corner
: his eye at the discomfitted looks of one or
<>f the laggards.
A famous run sir," said Sir Harry. " The
-i time you have hunted in our country, but
I hope we shall see you often."
I hope to become a member of the hunt,
• " -aid Mr. lliggins.
Most happy—proud I'm sure, to receive
•hiring a rider among Us. Von took the
' '! -r Gate, while some of our friends here"
iwliug at one or two cowards byway of
■ing his speech. " Aiiow me to introduce
•"It— master of the hounds"—he fumbled
i: - a.(,>!( .jut pocket for a card on which his
'•• wis formally described. " Some of our
••Is her- are kind enough to come home
h tin- to dinner ; might I ask for the hon-
My name is lliggins,"replied the stranger
A: 'ig low. " I am only lately eoinc to o
y tin- White House at Barford, and I
I U| -out u> yet presented my letters of intro-
I ••''Hon.
lio.g it," replied Sir Harry; "a man
1 D seat lik • your-, and that good brush in
ur liand, might ride uj to any door in the
1 in a Leicestershire man I) and be a
"UP guest. Mr H.gg!:. J shall be. proud
'oine better acquainted with you over my
K • her table "
Mr. Lliggins knew pretty well how to im
•t the acouaintanoe thus begun. He could
i a good song, tell a good story, and was
■ Ur > in practical jokes ; with plenty of that
keen worldly sense which in this case taught
him on whom he might play off such jokes
with impunity froin their resentment, and with
a security of applause from the more boister
• ous, vehement or prosperous. At the end of
twelve months Mr. Robinson lliggins was,
out and out, the most popular member of the
Barford hunt, had beaten all the others by a
conple of lengths, as his first patron, Sir Has
rv, observed one evening, when they were just
leaving the dinner table' of an old hunting
squire in the neighborhood.
" Because, you know," said Squire Hearn,
hold Sir Harry by the button—" I mean, you
see, this young spark is looking sweet upon
Catherine ; and site's a good girl, and will
have ten thousand pounds the day she's mar
ried, by her mother's will? and—excuse me,
Sir Haray—bnt I should not like my girl to
throw herself away."
Though Sir Harry had a long ride before
him and bnt the early and short light of a
new moon to take it in, his kind heart was
so touched by Squire Hearn's trembling, tear
1 anxiety, that lie stopped, and turned back in
to the dining room, to say, with more asserva-
I tions than I care to give—" My good Squire,
I may say I know that man nretty well by
this time, and a better fellow never existed.—
If I had twenty daughters he should have the
I pick of them."
Squire Hearn never thought of asking the
grounds for his old friends opinion of Mr. llig
gins it had been given with too much earnest
ness for any doubts to cross the old man's
mind as to the possibility of its being well
founded. Mr. Hearn was neither a doctor nor
a thinker, nor suspicious by nature ; it was
simply his love for Catherine, his only child,
that promoted his anxiety in this ease"; and,
after what Sir Hairy had said, the old man
could totter with an easy mind, though not
with very steady legs, into the drawing-room,
where his bonny, blushing daughter Cather
ine and Mr. lliggins stood clo-e together on
the hearthrug—lie whispering, she listening
with downcast eyes. She looked so verv hap
py, so like what her dead mother had looked
when tie squire was a young man, that all his
I thought was how to nlease her most. His son
; end he;r was about to be married, and bring
his Wife (o live with the Squire. Barford and
iHe White 11 use was not distant more than
an hour's rule, and, even as these thoughts
passed lluough his in,ml, he asked Mr. lliir
grii is it he co i!d not - ; v til night—the young
moon w.-' heady sit —the roads would be
dark, and Catherine looked up with a pretty
anxiety, which however, hai' not much doubt
iu it, for the answer.
With every encouragement of this kind,
from the old Squire, it took everybody rather
by surprise when one morning it was discover- >
ed that Miss Catherine Hearn was missing;
and when, according to the usual fashion in
sueli eases, a note was found, saying that s! e
had eloped with " the man of her heart,' and
gone to Gretna Green, 110 one could imagine
why she could not have qaietiy stopjied at
home anil been married in the parish church
Biie had always been a romantic, sentimental ;
girl: very pretty and very affectionate, and
very much spoiled, and very much wanting in !
common sense. Her indulgent father was ve
ry much hurt at this want of confidence in his
never varying affection ; but when his son
came, hot with indignation, from the Baronet's
(his future father-iu-law's house, where every
form of law and ceremony was to accompany
his own impending marriage,) Squire Hearn
pleaded the cause of the young couple with
imploring cogency, and protested that it was
a piece of the spirit of his daughter which he
admired and was proud of. However, it ended
with Mr. Nathaniel Hearn's declaration that
lie and his wife would have nothing to do with
his sister and her husband.
" Wait till you have seen him Nat I" said
the old squire, trembling with his distressful
anticipations of family discord. He's an ex
cuse for auy girl. Only ask Sir Harry's opin
ion of him."
"Confound Sir Harry. So that a man sits
his horse well, Sir Harry cares nothing about
anything else. Who is this mail—this fellow {
Where does he come from? What are his
means? Who are his family?"
" He comes from the south, Surrey or Som
ertshire, I forget which ; and he pays his way
liberally. There's not a tradenian in Barford
but says that he cares no more for money than
for water ; lie spends like a prince, Nat. I
dont know who his family are, but he seals
with a coat of arms, which may tell you if you
if you want to know, and ho goes regularly to
collect his rent from his estates iu the south."
Mr. Nathaniel Ilcat'n gloomed and muttered
an oath or two to himself. The poor old fath
er was reaping the consequences of Lis weak
indulgence to.his children. Mr. anu Mrs. Na
thaniel Ileum kept apart from Catherine anil
her husband ; and Squire Ilearn durst never
ask them to Revision Hall, though it was his
house. Indeed, lie stole away as ( if he were
a culprit whenever lie went to visit the White
House ; and if lie passed a night there, lie
was fain to equivocate when he returned home
next day ; and equivocation which was well
interpreted bv the surly and proud Nathaniel.
But the younger Mr. and Mrs. Ilearn were |
the only people who did not visit at the White
House. Mr. and Mrs. lliggins were decided-j
!y more popular than their brother and sister- |
in-law. tine made a very pretty sweet-tem
pered hostess, and her education had not been j
such as to rend- r us intolerant of any want of 1
refinement in tne associates who gathered nr- |
onnd her husband. She had gentle smiles for
towns people as x* .-II as country j ample, audi
unconsciously )/hty<*d an admirable second in i
tier husband's project of making himself pop- i
ular.
But there is some one to make ill-natured
narks, and . Ir- w •11-aAtured conclusions from
very simple premises in every pi ac - ; and a
B.irfor i .Is Mr •••' ill-' : a: wis a Mi.su l'ratt.
ri a did n ' hunt— fo Mr Higgiu's admirable
riding did not call out her admiration, fcne
aid not drink—so t.e well selected wines, so
lavishly dispensed among the guests, could
never molify Miss L'ratt. She could uot bear
comic songs or buffoon stories—so iu that way
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
" REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
her approbation was impregnable. And these,
three great secrets to popularity constituted
Mr. Higgiu's great charm. Miss Pratt sat
and watched. Her face looked imraoveably
grave at the end of Mr. lliggiu's best stories ;
but there was a keen, needle like glance of her
unwinking little eyes which Mr. lliggins felt
rafiier than saw, and which made him shiver,
even on a hot day, when it fell upon him.
Miss Pratt was a Dissenter and to propitiate
this female Mordecai, Mr. lliggins asked the
disputing minister whose services s-he attended
to dinner ; kept himself and his company in
good order, and gave a handsome donation to
the poor of the chapel. All in vain—Miss
Pratt stirred not a muscle more of her face i
towards graciousness ; and Mr. lliggins was
conscious,that iu spite of all his efforts to cap
tivate Mr. Davis, there was a secret influence
on the other side, throwing in ddubts and sus
picions, and evil interpretations of all he said
and did. Miss l'ratt, the little plain old maid, !
living 011 eighty pounds a year, was the thorn
in the popular Mr. lliggu's side, although she ;
had never spoken one uncivil word to him in- j
deed, on the contrary, had treated him with a 1
stiff and elaborate civility. The thorn, the
grief of Mrs. lliggins, was this—they had no
children. Oh ! how she would stand "and envy
the careless, busy motion of half a dozen chil- j
drcn ; and then, when observed, move 011
with a deep, deep sigh of yearning regret. j
One day the hounds met not far from town,
and the fox was found in part of the wild
heath which was beginning to be enclosed by
a few of the more wealthy town people, who
were desirous of building themselves houses
rather more in the couulry than those they had
hitherto lived in. Among these, the principal
was a Air. Dudgeon, the attorney of Barford,
and the agent of all the country families about.
The firm of Dudgeon had managed the leases,
the marriage settlements. Ac., of the neigh
borhood for generations. -Mr. Dudgeon's fath
er had the responsibility of collecting the laud
ow uer's rents, just as the present Mr. Dudg
eon had, at the time of which we speak, and
as his son and son's sons have done since.
Mr. John Dudgeon had built himself a Louse
on YVillmry lleath, a mere cottage us he call
ed, but though only two stories high, it spread
out faf and wide, and work-people from Derby
had beett sent for ou purpose to make the in
side as complete us possible. The gardens,
too, were exquisite iu arrangement, if not ve
ry extensive : and not a flower was grown in
them but of the rarest species. It must have
been somewhat of a mortification to the own
er of this dainty place, when, on the day of
which I speak, the fox, after a long race,"du
ring which he had described a circle of manv
miles took refuge in the garden ; but Mr. I>.
put a good face ou the matter, when a gentle
man hunter, with the careless insolence of the
squires of those days and that place, rode
across the velvet lawn, and tapppiug at the
window of the dining room with his whip han
dle, asked permission—no, that is not it—ra
ther informed Mr. Dudgeon of their intention
—to enter the garden in a body and and have
the fox unearthed. Mr. Dudgeon compelled
himself to smile assent, with the grace of a
masculine Griseldu ; and then he hastily gave
orders to have all that the house afforded of
provision set out for luncheon, guessing right
ly enough, that a six hour's ride, would give
even homely fare an acceptable welcome. He
bore without wincing the entrance of the dir
ty boots into Lis exqnisitively clean rooms ;
iie only felt grateful for the care with which
Mr. lliggins strode about, laboriously and
noiselessly moving on the tips of Lis toes as
lie recouoitercd the rooms with a very curious
eve.
" I am going to build a house myself, Dudg
eon ; and, upon my word, 1 don't think I could
tiike a better model tlinu yours."
" Oh 1 my poor cottage would be to small
to afford any hints for such a house as you
would wish to build, Mr. lliggins," rcpled Mr.
Dudgeon, gently rubbing his hands, neverthe
less, at tiie compliment. "Four sitting rooms
and the bed rooms, Ac. I confess 1 took
some pains in arranging it, and, though fur
.smaller than what you would requite, it may
afford you some hints."
8o lit y hfi the eating gentlemen with their
mouths and tlieir j dates quite full, and tlie
scent of the fox overpowering that of the has
ty rashers of huiu ; and they carefully inspec
ted all tlie rooms.
Mr Dudgeon's sanctum was the centre room
over the porch, which formed a balcony, and
which was carefully filled with choice (lowerc
in pots, inside there were all kinds of ele
gant contrivances for Liding the real strength
of all the boxes and chests required by the
particular nature of Mr. Dudgeon's business;
for though his office was in Barford, he kept
(as he informed Mr. lliggins) what was the
most valuable portion here, us being safer than
an office which was locked up and left every
night. But, as Mr. lliggins reminded him in
a sly poke in the side when next they met his
own house was not over secure. A fortnight
after the gentlemen of the Barford hunt
lunched there, Mr. Dudgeon's strong box—in
his sanctum up stairs, with the mysterious
spring bolt to the window, invented by him
self, and the secret of which was only known
to the inventor and a few of his most intimate
friends, to whom lie had prudently shown it—
this strong box—containing the collected rents
of (there was then no bank nearer than Der
by,; was rilled, and the secretly rich Mr. Dud
geon had to stop his agent iu his purchase of
paintings by Flemish artists, because the mon
ey was now required to make good the missing
rents.
About two years after this time—aiul alv
out seven years after Mr. lliggins had been
married —one Tuesday evening Mr Davis was
reading the news iu the coffee room of the
George Inn. Mr. Iliggius came in. lie was
pale aud haggard with cold. Mr. Davis who
uad for some time tlie sole possession of the
fire, moved politely on one side, and handed
tiie new comer the sole Loudon newspaper
which the room afforded. Mr. lliggins ac
cepted it, and hitched his chair nearer to the
fire, and putting his feet on the fender, giving
an audible shudder. He put the newspaper
, ou the end of the table near him, and sat gaz
ing iu the red embers of the fire crouching
down over them as if his very marrow bones
were chilled. At length he said : " There is
no account of the murder at Bath in that pa
per ?"
Mr. Davis, who had finished his reading,
and was preparing to go home, stopped short,
and asked : " Has there been a murder at
Bath ? No ! 1 have not seen anything of it
—who was murdered ?"
" Oh ! it was a shocking, terrible murder !"
said Mr. lliggins, not raising his look from
the fire, but gazing on with eyes dilated till the
whiles were seen all around them. " A terri
i ble, terrible murder ! I wonder what will be
j come of the murderer ? 1 can fancy the red
glowing centre of that fire—look and sec how
infinitely distant it seems, and how the distance
magnifies it jnto something awful and unquench-
I able."
"My dear sir, you are feverish ; how you
; shake and shiver !" said Mr. Davis, thinking
; privately that his companion had symptom of
; fever, and that he was wandering in his mind
" Oil, no," said Mr. lliggins. "I am not
| feverish. It is the night which is so cold.—
We will have a bottle of port together. I
want to tell you about this murder" he eou
i tinued, dropping Lis voice, and speaking hoarse j
and low. "She was an old woman, and he
; killed her, sitting reading her Bible by her own ;
[fireside!" He looked at Mr. Davis with uj
strange searching gaze, as if trying to find some ;
I sympathy in the horror which the idea pre-!
seated to him.
" Who do you mean, my dear sir ? What j
is this murder you ure so lull of ? No one has !
been murdered here ?"
"No, you fool ! 1 tell you it was in Bath !"
said Mr. lliggins, with sudden passion ; and
then calming himself to the velvet smoothness
of manner, lie laid his hand on Mr. Davis'
there, as they sat by the lire, and gently de
taining him began the narration of the crime !
he was so full of, but his voice and manner !
were constrained to a stony quietude ; he e- 1
ver looked in Mr. Davis'face ; once or twice, !
as Mr. Davis remembered afterwards, his grip 1
tightened like a lompressitig vice.
" She lived iu a small house in a quiet, old
fashioned street, she and her maid. People
said she was a good old woman ; but for all
that she hoarded and hoarded, and never gave
to the poor—wicked—wicked—is it not ? 1
always give to the poor, for ouce 1 read in the
Bible that ' Charity covereth a multitude of
sins.' The wicked old woman never gave, but
boarded her money, and saved and saved.—
Some one heard of it ; 1 say she threw a
temptation iu his way, and God will punish
her for it. And this man, or it might be a
woman, who knows ?—and this person heard
also that she went to church in the mornings,
and her maid in theafternoou ; and so—while
the maid was at church, and the street and the
house quite still, and the darkness of a winter
afternoon coming ou—she was nodding over
the Bible—aud that, mark you ! is a sin, and
one that God will avenge sooner or later ; and
a step came iu the dusk up the stair, and that
person I told you of stood iu the room. At
first he—no ! At first, it is supposed—for,
you understand, all this is merely guess work
—it. is supposed lie asked her civilly enough to
give him her money, or to tell him where it
was ; but the old miser defied him, and would
not ask for mercy and give up her keys, even
when he threatened her, but looked him in the
face as if lie had been a baby. Oil, God !
Mr. Davis, I once dreamed, when 1 was a lit
tle innocent boy, that 1 should commit a crime
like this, and I waked up crying ; aud my mo
ther comforted me—that is the reason 1 trem
ble so now—that and the cold, for it is very
very cold !"
" But did he murder the old lady ?" asked
Mr. Davis. " I beg your pardon, sir, bnt lam
interested by your story."
" Yes ! he cut her throat, and there she lies
yet in her quiet little parlor, with her face up
turned and all ghastly white, in the middle of
a pool of blood. Mr. Davis, this wine is no
better than water ; I must have some brandy!"
Mr. Davis was horror struck by the story,
which seemed to have fascinated him as much
as it had done his companion.
" Have they got any clue to the murderer ?"
said lie. Mr. lliggins drank down half a tum
bler of raw brandy before lie answered.
" No —no clue whatever. They will never
be able to discover nim, and L should not won
der, Mr. Davis, I should not wonder if he re
pented after all, and did bitter penance for his
crime ; and if so, will there be mercy for him
at the last day ?"
"God knows ! said Mr. I>avis, with solem
nity. ' It is an awful story," continued lie,
rousting himself; " J hardly like ty leave this
warm, light room, and go out into the dark
ness after hearing it. But it must be done,"
buttoning on bis great coat, "can only sav I
hope and trust they will find out the murder
and hang him. If you'll take my advice, Mr.
lliggins, you'll have your bed warmed, ami
drink a treacle-posset just tlic last tiling ; and
if you'll allow me, I'll send you mv answer to
L'hilologus before it goes up to old Urban."
The next morning Mr. Davis went to call
on Miss l'ratt, who was not very well ; and
byway of being agreeable and entertaining
lie related to her all that he heard the night
before about the murder at Bath ; and really
he made a very pretty connected story out ot
it, aud interested Miss l'ratt very much in the
fate of the old lady partly because of a simi
larity in their situations ; for she also private
ly hoarded money, and had but one servant,
and stopped at home alone on Sunday aftcr
uoons to allow her servant to go to church.
Miss l'ratt grunted. She used to vent her
dislike and suspicions of Mr. lliggins in a grunt
whenever his name was mentioned. Miss Pratt
afterwards went to stay with her cousin, Mr.
Merton. lie was an active magistrate, and
enjoyed his rcputatiou us such. Due day lie
came iu, having just received his letters.
" Bad account of the morals of your little
town here, Jessy," said he, touching one of his
letters. " Yon've either a murderer among
you, or some friend of a murder. It seems he
must have been thirsty, ami of a comfortable,
jolly turji, for, before going to his hard work,
he tapped a barrel of ginger wine the old lady
had set by to work ; and he wrapped the spi
got round with a piece of letter tukeu out of
his pocket, as may be supposed ; and this piece
of a letter was found afterwards ; there ure
only these letters on the outside, ' ?is Eskar
ford, eg worth which some oue has ingenious
ly made out to mean Barford, near Kegworth.
On the other side there is some allusion to a
race horse."
*****
There is no need to add much more. Those
curious iu the lives of highwaymen may find
the name of lliggins as conspicuous among
those annals as that of Claude Duval. Kate
Hearn's husband collected his rents on the high
way, like many another " gentleman " of the
day ; but having been unlucky in one or two
of ids adventures, and hearing exaggerated
accounts of the hoarded wealth of the old lady
at Bath, he was led 011 from robbery to mur
der, and was hung for his crime at Derby, in
17 To.
He had not been an unkind husband ; and
iiis poor vife took lodgings in Derby, to lie
near him in his awful last moments. Her old
father went with her everywhere but into her
husband's cell, and w rung her heart by con
stantly accusing himself of having promoted
her marriage with a man of whom he kuew so
little.
1 saw the White.House not a month ago ;
it was let, perhaps for the twentieth time since
Mr. lliggins occupied it ; but stil the tradi
tion goes iu Barford, that once upon a time a
highwayman lived there, and amassed untold
treasures ; and that the ill-gotten wealth yet
remains walled up in some unknown conceal
ed chamber ; but iu what part of the Louse no
one knows.
Resolutions of the Republican State
Convention.
Judge KELLKY from the Committee on
Resolutions, made the following report, viz:
This Convention of Delegates, representing
the Freemen of Pennsylvania, opposed to the
lending measures of tlie late National Admin
istration, and the continuance of the same de
structive policy clearly foreshadowed by the
acts and declarations of the administration just
inaugurated, do
Resolve, That the maintainancc of the prin
ciples promulgated in the declaration of Inde
pendence, and embodied in the Federal Con
stitution, is essential to the preservation of our
Republican institutions ; that the Federal Con
stitution, the liberties of the people, the sove
reign rights of the States, and the Union of
the States, must and shall be preserved.
Resolved, That with our Republican fathers,
we hold it to be a self-evident truth, that all
men are created equal ; that they are endow
ed by their Creator with eertaiu inalienable
rights ; that among these are lifo, libertv a- d
the pursuit of happiness; tbn't to secure these
rights, gove nments are instituted among men ;
and that the primary dnty and object of our
Federal Government is to secure these rights
to all persons under its exclusive jurisdiction.
That, as our Republican fathers abolished sla
very in ail the national territory, and ordain
ed in the Constitution " that no person shall
be deprived of life, liberty or property, with
out due process of law, it becomes our duty to
maintain this provision of the Constitution
against all attempts to violate it, for the pur
pose of establishing slavery iu the territories
of the United States. That we deny the au
thority of Congress, of the Supreme Court, of
a Territorial Legislature, of any individual or
association of individuals, to give legal exis
tence to Slavery in any territory of the Unit
ed States, while the Constitution shall be
maintained.
Resolved, That the Constitution confers up
on Congress sovereign power over the Terri
tories of the United States, for their govern
ment ; a power not controverted tor the first
sixty years of our national existence, but exer
cised by the general concurrence of all depart
ments of the Government, through every Ad
ministration from WASHINGTON to POLK ; aud
that in the exercise of this unquestionable po
wer, it is the duty of Congress to prohibit in
tiie Territories, those twin relics of barbarism,
polygamy and slavery.
Resolved, THAT WE ARK YF.T FREEMEN, and
that while we retain the inestimable rights of
Freemen, secured to us by the sacrifices, suf
ferings and bioodof our Revolutionary fathers,
we will not submit, to have a new Constitution
imposed upon us by the extra-judicial opinions
of Judges of the Supreme Court—opinions
subversive of the rights of human nature —in
conflict with the truth of history, with the un
broken action of rlie government and the law
of the land, as heretofore pronounced by the
Federal Judiciary, and the Courts of nearly
evcrv Slate in the American Union.
Resolved, That the recent opinions of the
majority of the Judges of the Supreme Court,
in a case over which they decided the Court
had no jurisdiction, and, therefore, no authori
ty to pronounce tiie law arising therein, is but
another step in consummation of that conspira
cy against our free institutions, which had its
inception in the repeal of the Missouri Com
promise ; that it is the direct result of the late
triumph of the Slave Power in the election of
its candidate, JAMF.S BUCHANAN, to the Presi
dencv, and unless promptly rebuked by the
prople at the ballot-box. may be followed by
other usurpations fatal to the independence of
the Free States and the liberties of our people.
Rvsolvid. That the constitutional rights of the
people of Kansas have been fraudently and vi
olently taken from them. Their territory has
been invaded by an armed force ; spurious aud
pretended legislative, judicial and executive
officers have been set over them, by whose
usurped authority, sustained by the military
power of the Federal Government, tyrannical
and unconstitutional laws have been enacted
and enforced ; the right of the people to keep
und 1 ear arms lias beeu infringed ; test oaths
of an extraordinary and entangling nat ore have
Ieen imposed as a condition of exercising the
right of suffrage aud holding office ; t; e right
of an aceu .cd person to a speedy and public
VOL. XVII. —NO. 44.
trial by an impartial jury has been denied ;
cruel anil unusual punishments have beeu in
flicted upon the iuuocent, while murders, rob
beries and arsons have been instigated and en
couraged, and the offenders have been allowed
to go unpunished ; the right of the people to
be secure in their persons, houses, papers and
effects against unreasonable searches and sei
zures, has been violated ; they have been de
prived of life, liberty and property, without
due process of law ; the freedom of speech and
of the press has been abridged ; the right to
choose their representatives has been made of
no effect ; That all these things have been
done with the knowledge, sanction and pro
curement of the Federal Government, in vio
lation of the plainest mandates of the Consti
tution ; That the usurpation by which a spu
rious Legislature was imposed upon Kansas,
and its people subjected to a code of lairs un
paralleled for cruelty in the history of civiliz
ed nations, is still in full force, aud the people
are denied the right peacefully to assemble
aud petition for a redress of grievances ; the
National Executive lias permitted two Gover
nors of his appointment to be driven from the
Territory under fear of assassination, and has
not dared to exert its |>ower for their protec
tion against the . lawless minions of Slavery,
while judicial monsters and men whose hands
arc red with innocent blood, are retained in
office, to carry on the work of subjecting free
territory to the curse ol slavery. Kansas has
been denied admission under a free constitu
tion, and fraudulent means are uow in progress
to secure its admission as a slave State at the
next session of Congress. Against this stu
pendous wrong, we protest, in the name of
Gon AND Jlru.ixTTY—by all that is glorious iu
our history, and by the memory of the great
aud good men who established our liberties.
Rtsuhtd, That it is a fraud ti|>on our laws,
and fraught with danger to our institutions, to
admit to a full participation in their benefits,
any man who acknowledges a foreign suprema
cy, which he cannot conscientiously and with-,
out mental reservation, abjure and forever re
nounce ; whether that supremacy be civil or
spiritual.
Resolved, That the stupendous frauds by
which our popular elections arcswavedagainst
a majority of the legally qualified voters,
strikes at the foundation and life of our sys
tem of government: and unless speedily cor
rected, will lead to violence and anarchy ; and
we urge upon all good citizens to unite for the
suppression of this evil ; and we call upon our
own Legislature to gnard by effective and strin
gent laws the purity of the ballot box.
Reajived, r ihat the sale of the Main Line of
onr improvements, is demanded by everv con
•S.tlerntion that should weigh with intelligent
and honest men. As a source of reveune, it is
wholly worthless to the State, while it is no
toriously used as a means of peculation and
plunder, thereby inflicting upon the State pe
cuniary loss, and also irreparable injury, in tho
almost universal demoralization and political
profligacy engendered throughout its entiro
extent.
Resolved, That we invite the affiliation and
co-operation of men of all parties, however
differing with us in other respects, in support
of the principles herein declared ; and believ
ing that the spirit of our institutions, as well
as the Constitution of our country, guarantees
liberty of conscience and equality of rights
among citizens, we oppose all legislation im
pairing their security.
R5F* Eighteen things in which young peo
ple render themselves very impolite :
1. Loud laughter.
2. Reading while others are talking.
3. Cutting finger-nails in company.
4. Leaving meeting before it is closed.
0. Whispering in company.
G. Gazing at strangers.
7. Leaving a stranger without a scat.
8. A want of reverence for superiors.
9. Reading aloud in company without being
asked.
10. Receiving a present without manifi sta
tion of gratitude.
1. Making yourself the topic of conversa
tion
12. Laughing at the mistakes of others.
13. Joking others in company.
14. Correcting older persons than your
self, especially parents.
15. To commence talking before others arc
through.
IG. Answering a question when put to
others.
17. Commencing to cat as soon as you get
to the table. And,
18. In not listening to what one is saying
in company, unless you desire to show open
contempt for the speaker.
POPPI.VG Tin-: t^RKSTIOX. — J was sitting bv
the side of luiogene meditating upon the iwst
manner of coming to the point, when she took
up an orange that laid upon the table.
" Will you have a part of this ?" she asked.
I assented, thinking all the while more of
the orange flowers than of the fruit. What
she was thinking off 1 cannot say. She divid
ed the orange into two parts, and gave mo
one.
A sudden inspiration came upon me.
" Oh, lmogenc !" said I, " 1 wish you would
serve ine as you have this orange."
" What do you mean V' she asked inno
cently.
" \\ liy you have halved the orange now
wont you have me ?"
I am little oblivious as to what followed for
the next few minutes, only that somehow F
found my mustache in contact with her lips.—
We arc to be married in October.— Exchange.
A Yankee proposts to buiH an cstab
lisbmcnt which he may drive a sheep in at one
end and have it come out at the other as four
quarters of mutton, a felt hat, a pair of draw
ers, a leather apron, and u quarto dictionary.
Men often mistake notoriety for fame,
j and would rather be remarked for their vices
aud follie.; than not to be noted at ail.