**01t......... iroostotos..-:-...._.v.:414000:4,.
POET 1/1.1=11.7ZT011.]
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SHERIFF CANDIDATES
'Ail'eAttliV V A. IiArVIZ .
George W. NitClellau, •
KETURNS his sincere thanks to Ins
14 ' Fuit:Nos and the Pun Lie generally,
for placing him on the return with the pres
ent Simairr, at a firmer election; and res•
pectfully solicits their votes and interest, for
the
S LIVE nirr , S OFFICE,
at the ensuing ELECTION. Should he
he honored with their confidence by being
elected to that Office, no exertion shall be
wanting on his part, faithfully to discharge
the duties of that important trust
Gettysburg, Jan. 25, 1836
Slii II RIF F ALIITY .
l'o the voters of ..ildants county.
FRIENDS AND FELLOW-CITIZENS:
Al' the request Ufa number of my friends
I announce myself to your considers
tion as a CANDIDATE for the
JVT XT SHE L Y,
and most respectfully solicit your support
Should I be honored with your successfu
approbation and favor, it shall be my firs
wish and aim to discharge the duties of the
office with fidelity and humanity.
JOHN JENKINS
Gettysburg, Feb. 1, 1836. to-44
S•TILFAItIFY %LT V .
To the Independent Voters of Adams co..
FELLOW-CITIZENS:
I offer my self to your consideration as a
Candidate for the
SHERIFF' 8 OFFICE,
at the ensuing Election. Should Ibe elec
ted, I pledge myself that I will perform the
duties of that Office with fidelity and impar
tiality.
JAMES Mel LIMN Y.
[Mountjoy tp.] Feb. 22, 1836. tc-47
suErtzrrALTy.
To the Voters of Adams County:
Once more, Fellow• Citizens, 1 ofrer my
self to your consideration as a Candidate for
the
SHERIFF'S OFFICE,
and respectfully solicit your support. If
you elect me, I, as is customary, most cheer
fully pledge mybelf to discharge the duties
faithfully. Your obedient Servant.
MICHAEL C. CLARKSON.
February 22, 1936. to-47
sumnirraLTy.
To the Independent Voters of Adams Co.:
FELLOW CrrizeNs:
I offer myself to your consideration for
the office of
SIIERIFF,
at the next GENERAL ELECTION. Should I
be so fortunate as to be elected I will dis•
charge the duties of the office faithfully.
Your obedient Servant,
WM. TAUGHI NBA UGH.
Petersburg, (Y. S.) Feb. 29, 1886. to-48
SHEItEET.aLTY.
To the free and Independent Citizens of A
dams County:
FELLOW-CITIZENS:
I offer myself for the SHERIFF'S OF
FICE, at the next election—end should I
bu so fortunate as to succeed, I pledge my
word and honor to servo with honesty,with
out respect to persons.
ABRAHAM MUMMA.
Franklin tp., March 7, 1839. to-49
SHERIPFAXIT'f.
To the independent Voters of Adams Co
FELLow-CrrizENs:
I offer myself to your consideration as a
candidate for the
SHERIFF'S OFFICE,
And respectfully solicit your support. II
you elect me I most cheerfully2pled i ge my
self to discharge the duties faithfully.
Your obedient Servant,
GEORGE M YERS.
New-cheater, March 7, 1836. to*--49
sErmarrirax.Ty.
To the free and Independent Voters of A
dams County:
FELLOW-CITIZENS:
Through kind persuasion from many of
my friends, 1 have been induced to offer
tilysellas a candidate for the office of
S liE RIFF,
at the ensuing Election, and respectfully
solicit your votes; and should 1 be so fortu.
note us to receive your confidence, by being
elected to that office, I would pledge myself
to discharge the duties of the office with
care and fidelity.
Will. ALBRIGHT.
Conowago tp., March 7, 1826. to 19
4- r.ealEa Ctil.Wal6l2lWo
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ek" _>" - ---7..- -- -7,'.1.0: -
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-"With sweetest flowers enriched,
From various gardens eull'd with care."
BURIAL OF THE BEAUTIFUL.
Where shall tho dead, and the beautiful sleep?
In the vale where the willow and cypress weep—
Where the wind of the West breathes its softest aig
Where the silvery stream is flowing nigh—
And the pure clear drops of its rising sprays
Glitter like gems in the bright moon's rays—
Where the sun's warm smile may never dispel
Night's tears o'er the form we loved so well—
In the vale where the sparkling waters glow—
Where the fairest, earliest violets grow—:
Where the 'sky and the earth are softly faifl--
Bury her there—bury her there!
Where shall the dead and the beautiful sleep?
%Viten: wild-flowers bloom in the valley deep—
W here the sweet robe of spring may softly rest
In purity over the sleepers breast.
Where is heard the voice of the sinless dove,
Breatkiag notes of deeping and undying love—
Where no column proud in the sun may glow,
To mock the heart that is resting below—
Where pure hearts are sleeping forever blest—
Where the wandering Peril love to rest—
Where the sky and the earth are softly fair—
Bury her there—bury her there!
VMO OrgY.DOLIV(DI'Vo
The Two Mothers.
SAUMMUR is a most delicious place, with its lit
tla rod and white houses, seated ut the foot of a
flower dressed bilhand divided by the Loire,which
runs sportively through it, like a blue scarf on the
neck of a beautiful girl. But alas,this now Edon,
like all other cities, has its sad attendants on civ.
ilization—a prison and a subprefect, a literary so
ciety and a lunatic hospital—yes, a hospital for
lunatics! Ascend the Loire by the left bank, and
when you have arrived at the outskirts of the city,
clamber by a stoop path—you will soon arrive at
tho top ofa pebbly hill, on the flunks of which are
placed small cabins, furnished with great bars of
wood. It is there, while you aro occupied with
admiring with all the powers of your soul, the
beautiful country which stretches from Tour to
Angers, the green and fertile fields, the rapid and
majestic current which crosses and bathes tho
brilliant landscape; solidity will burst forth be
hind you, and call you to contemplate the specta
cle which you have come to seek. Then you will
renounce with pain the happiness of the contem
plation; but you will renounce it, because it cannot
be enjoyed beside such an accumulation of misery.
Look at that young man walking almost naked
—the young man whose limbs are blackened by
exposure to tho sun, and whose foot are torn by
rough pebbles in his pathway. He had taken
holy orders—he was surprised by love—ho went
crazy—now he is stripped of his orders and his
love—poor victim.
As I was wandering ono day in the midst of
all this wreck of humanity, behind me was walk
ing a young lady, accompanied by her husband,
leading by the hand a pretty little girl, their child.
Sho came, without doubt, liko myself, to seek for
strung and now emotions. We become strangely
jaded with the tlr.ng excitement of a city.
I arrived at the same moment with this lady,
opposite a girl who had boon led out of her cell
into the court, and was fastened to the wall by an
iron chain. Hor large blue eye had so much
sweetness, her pale face so many charms and her
long auburn hair toll with so much grace over her
naked shoulders, that I looked at her with ibex.
prossihlo pain—She appeared to have been weep
ing bitterly—how heavy, then, appeared that hor
rible iron chain which abraided her white delicate
skin!
I asked the lay sister who acted as guide to me,
what had befallen the girl, that she was treated
so rigorously? She answered me, lowering her
eyes and blushing, "it is Mary, a poor girl from
the city, who has loved too deeply. The fiend
who tempted, abandoned her after two years, the
child of her shame died. This last loss deprived
her of reason, she was brought to this institution,
and in consequence of sudden dangerous excesses
ofderangement, she is chained."
The good sister bowed, as if ashamed of refer.
ring to such a subject.
I stood lost in reflection upon tho mutation o
human affairs, as I gazed at the unfortunate Wing
baforo me; when suddenly I saw her spring the
Pholo length of liar chain, seize the little child
which the young lady held by the hand, press It
closely to her breast,and rush back with tho
noes of an arrow to her stone bench.
The mother screamed frantically, and sprang
towards the miserable lunatic,who drove her back
with shocking brutality.
"It is my babe," cried Mary—"it is she indeed
—God has restored her to mo—oh, how good is
God;"—and alto leaped up with joy, and covered
the child with kisses. Tho fdthor atteinptod to
seize the child by force, but the lay sister prevon.
ted him, and besought him to lot Mary havn her
own way.
"It is not your daughter," said she kindly to.
Mary; "she does not resemble you in the least."
"Nut my daughter!—good herivent7, 100k --look,
sister Martha—look at her mouth, her eyes—it is
the very likeness of tier father. She has come
down from heaven. How pretty—how very prot.
ty sho is my dear, sweet daughter"—and she
pressed the child to her bosom, and rocked it like
a nurse to still its cries.
• It was, however, heart-rending to see the poor
mother, who watched with anxiety every move
ment of the lunatic, and wept or smiled as Mary
advanced towards, or retired from, sister Martha.
"Lend your daughter to one a moment, Mary;
that I may see her," said the Sister.
"Lend her to you! 0 no,indeed—the first limo
the priests told me also that I should fond her
for a littlb whilo to God, who desired such angelb,
and she was gone six menthe.: I will not load her
again—no, no, I would rather hill her and heal'
"I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER - SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."---SHARS
CU.2 . 24Pira2JVIIIOZEI 9 Znitc, 9 a130TP2:0422 1 0 awastpa2 q 3 3 o ault.
TLIE Bint.E.—As far as our species is
concerned, we may say, one sun! one bible!!
Shut that glorious book—blot from the
human memory what we have learned from
its pages,and you destroy every ray of hope.
The world lieth in darkness! To guilty,
miserable man, there remains no Saviour!--
no heaven!—no guide in life!—no support in
affliction!—no victory over death! The
grave becomes a fathomless abyss, and eter• '
nity spreads around him like the ocean—
dark—illimitable—fearful! But open now
again that book, and 10, the sun of righte•
ousness arises with healing in his wings; and
all around us and above us, is love and joy
and hope.
A CONTRAST.-Ii the beauties of the year
are so fading and its bouoes so soon perish
--lithe loveliest scenes of nature loose their
charms, and a few revolving years break
the spell that binds us to those whom we
love best—if the figure of the earth is charig•
ed by its own convulsions—if the forms of
human governments and the monuments of
human power and skill cannot endure—it
even systems of philosophy that prodoinina•
ted in one ago and exploded in another—if
nothing on te earth beneath, or the water
under the earth, preserve§ its form unchang•
ed, what is there that remains for ever the
same? what is there over which autumnal
winds and wintry frosts have no powerl—
does not pass away while we are sting
gling with calamity?—what that is proof
against the• fluctuiitions of human opinion,
and the might of the ocean's Waves, and the
her hody"—and sho held up the child as if she
would dash its head against the wall.
The mother, pale and inanimate, fell helpless
upon her knees, and with bitter sobs supplicated
the lunatic to give her back her child, and not to
do it harm—Mary give no heed to her; she was
holding the infant, with her eyes bent intently
upon its features.
The father, half distracted, had gone to seek
the director of the institution.
It would liavo boon difficult then, to say which
was the really crazy one—the mother, who lay
trembling in my arms, and calling aloud for hor
child, or Mary who, with wild laughter, present.
lug to the child hor shrivelled breasts.
It was resolved not to employ force, but to
allow Mary to retire into her coil, and when she
was sleeping to take away the child.
Once in her call, Mary laid the child at the foot
of the bed, pressed down the mattress, and dig
posed the clothes, in the form of a cradle—while
the real mother with her face pressed against the
gratings of the cell, watched in the twilight of
the place, w ith haggard and streaming eyes, every
motion of the lunatic.
Mary carofully deposited the child in its now
made bed, hushed it, and sung little nursery songs
with a tvild and fitful voice, and then fell asleep
beside the infant.
The nurse immediately entered the cell on lip
toe, snatched up the child, and restored it to its
mother's arms, who screamed with joy, and fled
away with her precious burthen. The cry of the
mother awakened Mary—she felt beside her in
vain for thd child—she ran to the grating, and
shook it with a powerful artu—she saw the child
borne from her; she uttered a wild, discordant
cry, and foil Ler whole length upon the hoor—
ahs 1008 dead—!wico was too much.
W e find the following simple bat touch
ing story in a French paper, Le Droit.
An old man,his age eighty•two,answered
to his name and raising himself with diffi•
culty, was supported by his daughter before
•the tribunal of his judges. To the question
of the presiding magistrate, his daughter
replied in a trembling voice, "My father
does not hear you, gentlemen, permit me
to answer - for him."
President.—Your father is brought be
fore us charged with begging and being
homeless.
Daughter.—May heaven pardon those
who have told you that. Gentlemen, from
the day I was born my father never left me,
and while I can work never shall be a bur
then to any one. A month since 1 fell sick;
we were without money; my father rose
early and went out. He did not return till
evening—then he sat down by my bed side
and burst into tears. I asked what ailed
him. He said it was a sad thing to be old.
He applied for a situation as laborer, but
his age was against him. I shall have to
beg, said he; for how can 1 let thee die for
want ofassistance.
I told him that I was better, and that I
would go to work next morning. The next
morning I was unable to move. My father
went out without speaking to me. An hour
afterwards I was informed that the guards
had arrested him for asking alms. Gentle.
men, ►f he did so it was not for himself, but
for me when I was too sick to work. If
you will pardon him for this time, I promise
lie shall never offend you again.
The affecting manner in which the poor
girl spoke softened even the magistrates,
and justice, or rather law gave way to feel.
ing and the octogenarian was discharged.
WanAN.--The good government of families
leads to the comforts of communities,and the
welfare of States. Of every domestic circle,
woman is the centre. Home, that scene of
purest and dearest joy—home is the empire
of woman! There she plans, directs, per
forms: the acknowledged source of dignity
and felicity. Where female virtue is most
pure, female sense most improved, female
deportment most correct, there is most pro
priety asocial manners. The early years
of childhood—those most precious years of
life and opening reason—are confined to
woman's superintendence. She, therefore,
may be presumed to lay the foundation of
all the virtue and all the wisdom that enrich
the world.
convulsions by which mountains are heaved
up from their deep foundations?
It is the GOD by whom these mighty
worlts•nre done, by whose hands this great
globe was first moulded and has over since
been flishioned according to his will. Bast
thou not heard that the everlasting God,
Jehovah, the Creator of the ends of the
earth fainteth not, neither is weary?
PUBLICK SCHOOLS.
niblick School Education.
The following Address was delivered at the Annual
Exhibition of Publick School, No. 7, in the City of
New York, en the 10th of February, 1335, by Mas
ter Charles Fanning, aged 12 years. Written by
W3I. A. WALKER, at that time Assistant
Teacher in said School, subsequently Principal
'reacher of Publick School, No. 15. si
Tins and similar occasions may not, per.
haps, readily suggest reflections adequate
to their real importance. We aro apt, to
the moral as well us in the physical world, to
overlook what is small and unassuming.—
Yet such are oftentimes the sign or the con
sequence of operat ions of the highest import.
All the kinder and nobler results proceed by
gradual and almost insensible means. The
lightning, the storm, the earthquake, aston•
ish while they destroy; but it is the gentle
dew rind summer air, that clothe the earth
with beauty, supply the wants of man, and
swell his heart with thankfulness.
Is not this then, an occasion of triumph,
ofgratitude, for us, for you? For ourselves,
we know full well that it is. Here is the
scene of efforts, where mind strives with
mind, in struggles as absorbing (and are
they not as worthy?) as those of warriour
with warriour. Here the theatre of plea
sure the highest and purest, the pleasure re
sulting from the cultivation of the nobler
portion of our nature. Here a home,second
only to the parental one, hallowed by com.
panionships in the purest pursuits,and watch
ed over by those elder brothers of the mind,
whose duty and whose pleasure it is to di
rect and to improve us.
Here, then, we aro proud and glad, to
stand forth and to testify, by word and ex.
ample, how much wo value the high privil
eges of this place. Here, we welcome pa
rents and friends,to a spectacle,which should
gladden each parent's heart. We welcome
the philanthropist, to a scene promising to
realize all his high hopes for his species.—
We welcome the citizen, conscious that
here is the source of all those wide and bene
ficent influences, in which every good citi
zen will rejoice, as the principles of social
and political health. Here, in our Publick
Schools, are the wells, whose waters are
unto life, the streams in which a nation may
wash and be clean.
But not alone in triumph would we speak.
Gratitude,the offering of the cultivated heart
alone, have we to pay in large but willing
measure. And to you,# ye untiring friends
to us and to humanity, to you, may we not
! be permitted, on this scene ofyour elevated
philanthropy, to pour out the tribute of
young, but warm hearts?
But for your Heaven-directed labours,
what might have been the fate of many a
now happy boy. "Chill penury" might
have suppressed every better hope of the fu
ture. Had the brow of knowledge,to others
so fair and cheering, been turned with a
frown from the cottage of the poor, where
would have been, for many of us, those
warm and bright hues, with which all the
future now beams upon our hopes? Despair
ing of aught better than the poor lot of our
inheritance, hopelesS of advancement, we
might have journeyed through a life of •
wretchedness, or, imbittered by a sense of '
degradation, have rushed down somo "of the
thousand paths, which slope the way to I
crime."
How is it with us now? Here, the son of
the rich man and of the poor meet in that
true equality, which is the proudest princi
ple of our country's character. Here, we
measure ourselves hind to mind, and here
is no superiority but that of nature and ()fin.
dustry. Who, in this place, would dare
speak of rank, or wealth, or sect, or party?
Here, we recognise all but in one character;
American youth, soon to be American c►ti-
zens. Citizens knowing no equals but each
other, no suporiour but their God!
It is in this place, and places like this,
that we form and train ourselves for future
usefulness and honour. But not alone of
the present life would we speak. Let us
not, in the height of earthly hope, forget the
yet higher office of education. Let lli re
member that, compared with which all else
is nothingness. With our education expands
the sphere of our duty. Our debt to Heaven
increases with the increase of our knowl-
edge. And may it never chance, that, as
our minds are strengthened and their view
extended, we should fail to conceive more
truly, and to appreciate more highly, our
relations to a world above us. Let educa-
tion, like one of the sciences, which it opens
to us, become the means of elevating our
thoughts from this humble sphere to the
universe of Faith and of God.
To you, then, I repeat, ye worthy and de.
voted almoners of our country's noble pa
tronage, to you our hearts render their deep
gratitude for all these our privileges. We
would express it, but adequately we may
not. To your own hearts,to your own high
motives, we refer you for your best reward;
to them, to your country, to Heaven. For
ourselves, our lives shall tell the story of
your beneficence.
One word to our friends here assembled.
You are American citizens. Where can
you look for the means of national honour;
where, for the pres9rvation of the free insti
tutions which you lovg, but to the system of
Publick School Instruction? It is an engine
of noble invention and mighty powers,fram
ed by your country, with a worthy and
•Truetoos of the Publick Schools.
magnanimous patronage, to raise the nation
al character to that level of virtue and knowl
edge, indispensable, in political society, to
selt•government.
•
It is the first and fundamental portion of
free institutions. From the day when the
Spartan mother sent forth her boy, the pupil
of his country, to die or to conquer, in his
country's battles, to that dark and bleak
hour, when the more than Spartan Band
stood first upon the Rock of Plymouth, no
land has long remained Frye without a sys.
tern of publick instruction. And has our
country no battles to be fought? Are there
not here, as well as elsewhere, the elements
of licentiousness, of crime,of political degra.
dation? And whence are these powers of
evil to bo borne back? They are the foes,
alike to knowledge and to our country.—
And here, in our Publick Schools, are the
the battle-fields, where they are to be met
and vanquiohed with weapons of ethereal
temper. . Here is marshalling a host, ready
armed, to go forth and do mightily for vir
tue and for right.
Whenever, in our now blessed country,
these dark powers shall array themselves
for their work of desolation, here will be
found a chosen band for their discomfiture.
Ours aro not the banners rolled in blood, or
streaming fearfully across the reddened
fields, and above the stormy passions of
men! But that, under which we go forth,
gleams gloriously in the sunlight of truth;
and, as it floats broad and proud mid-heaven,
out from its bright waving folds, flashes
forth, in characters of light', the one, true,
legend of freemen, KNOWLEDGE AND LIB
ERTY, ONE AND INSEPARABLE!
The Masonic Testimony.
Testimony taken by the COM
nlttee appointed by the House of
Representatives to investigate
the Evils of Free—Masonry.
MR. STEVENS CHAIRMAN,
7 CONCLUDED FROMII OUR LAST•
Testimony of Ezekiel Birdseye
The following deposition was presented
by EZEKIEL BIRDSEYE, at the request
of the chairman of the committee.
CORNWALL, Connecticut,
% June 2d, 1836.
Personally appeared Ezekiel Birdseye,
who being duly sworn, states: That in the
fall of the year 1825, ho went to reside :n
the town of Athens, Alabama, and that in
that town a man by the name of James Fit
ten lived, who was said to be the Master of
the Masonic lodge in the town, who return
ed from Maryland with negroes who, it was
reported, he had purchased on speculation.
I became suspicious that one of them whom:,
name was Emory Sadler, a tanner and cur
rier, had been kidnapped. My suspicions
were mentioned to one of my friends, who
said he was present when the sale was made
to a man living near, and that regular well
authenticated papers were produced. I
was for a time satisfied with this statement.
About a year after, at the solicitation of my
friends, I became a member of the lodge in
that town, having previously been a member
of a lodge at Union, South 'Carolina. Very
soon after 1 became a member of this lodge,
I was again suspicious that Emory had been
kidnapped, and made inquiry of him, which
convinced me that such was the fact, and
wrote to his friend, Wm. Prichett, No. 112,
Chesnut street, Philadelphia, where said
Emory stated he had been employed. Soon
after I received a package of documents, in
which were several depositions, which re
presented thut Emory was a freeman, and
that Fitton was personally concerned in car
rying him.off, with a full knowledge of all
the facts. A few days after I met with Fit
ten and informed him of the claim of Emo
ry to freedom, and the substance of the de
positions 1 had obtained, and that suit would
be brought to recover his freedom, unless
he would give him up without,which he re
fused; counsel were employed to institute le
gal proceedings. The day after I had en
gaged counsel, I was met by the tyler of the
lodge, and notified to attend a called meet
ing of the lodge on the day following. Un
derstanding the object of the meeting, I at
tended with the documents in my possession,
which were read and discussed to a late hour,
when 1 was requested to retire for a short
time; when I was called back, the following
certificate was handed me by the Master of
the lodge, whose name was William Mason,
a lawyer, who informed me that it was the
positive order of the lodge that I should sign
it: "This may certify that I have no docu
ments in my possession relative to the alleg
ed kidnapping and subsequent abduction of
a certain negro man called Emory Sadler,
that ought to induce the belief that Capt.
James Fitten has acted dishonestly, unfair.
ly, or ungentlemanly in any way whatever,
connected with the transaction."
I declined returning the certificate at the
request of an officer of the lodge. 11. was
afterwards informed by Dr. D. J. Gatowood,
who acted as secretary pro tern, for the eve
ning, and in whose hand writing it was
drawn,that it was the composition of Daniel
Coleman, at that time judge of the county
court for that county; and counsel for the
defendant Fitten. Another certificate was
drawn up of a' similar import, and signed, I
believe by all present, excepting myself,
which I was afterwards informed was shown
in various parts of the county. Some who
saw it called cn me for an explination,which
was readily given.
Soon after this meeting, suit was corn.
menced for the recovery of the freedom of
Sadler. Several meetings of the lodge were
held during the summer of 1827, apparently
with the intention to suppress the suit against
Fitten; in those meetings judge Coleman
took an active part. Finding their efforts
[VOL. 7--NO. 21.
to be unavailing, they handed um thetbllow.,
Ong notice:-
1,
Mn. EZEKIEL BIRDSEVE
This is to notify.fou to appear et- the
next regular meeting of Athens Lodge, at
their lodge room, in the town of Athens, on
the 21st day-of the present month, (Febtua:
ry,) to answer the charges preferred.against
you by James Fitton,' before said lodge, for
uninasonic conduct. When and where you
are required to attend. • -
ROBERT AUSTIN, Jr.
February 14, 1828."
With this notice I received the following
charges:
TO EZEKIF:L BIRDSEYE:
The following are the specifications of the
charges for unmasonic condact,which I have
preferred against you, and which will be
acted on at the next regular meeting of
Athens Lodge, for ulimasonic conduct.
Ist. In disobeying the order ofsaid lodge,
which enjoined'on you the performance of
certain duties towards me.
2d. In refusing to do me justice when you
had it in your power to do so.
3d. In acting towards me unmasonically
in relation to my purchase and sale of a cer
tain negro, called Emory.
4th. In professing openly, and in lodge,
that you had not and would not say anything
which would tend to injure 'me in the late
election, when you privately and secretly
endeavoured to defeat me, by retailing dr
cumgances connected with my purchase of
the negro Emory.
•
February 13, 1828.
The above 04 n true copy.
ROBERT AUSTEN, Jr. Secretary of Athens
Lodge.
Mr. Austen was also clerk of the court at
that time.
I met with the lodge at the time appoint
ed, and informed them that I had fully de
termined to prosecute the suit for the re
covery of the freedom of. Emory, and had
no apology to abr. The next day the Se
cretary handed me the following, as their
act of suspension.—.
ATHENS LODGE, No. 16, Feb. 21,1628.
Resolved, by this Lodge, That Ezekiel
Birdseye, a member of the same, be suspen
ded and excluded from the rights and privi
leges thereof for unmasonic conduct.
The above is a true copy.
ROBERT AUSTEN, Jr. Secretary.
In March following, the semi-annual term
of the Circuit Court was held. The trial
for the freedom of Emory was continued
until the last day of the term, and was the
only jury trial on that day. On going into
court with my counsel, I observed that the
jury were principally members of the lodge.
Most of the regularly empannelled jurors
had been permitted to return to their homes,
which gave the sheriff an Opportunity to
select the remainder of the jury of talisman.
Some time afterwards I endeavoured from
recollection and inquiry, to obtain the names
of the whole jury. 111 have them correctly,
and I believe I have, there were ten Masons
on the jury who were in the practice f of
meeting with the lodge. Several of. them
were present at the called meeting the lodge,
and signed a certificate of the entire inno
cence of their brother, James Fatten. The
sheriff was also a member of the lodge, and
had taken an active part in their proceed
Inge.
Being unwilling to have a cause of so
much importance tried by such a jury, I
submitted an affidavit to the court, stating
that undue influence had been used; and for
the cause ofjustice alone, I wished a change
of venue, which was granted by the court,
and the cause sent to Huntsville, in Madison
county, for trial, where it was tried soon
after, and resulted in the liberation of Ein
ory.
An authenticated copy of the record was
procured from the court at Huntsville, and
brought on with Emory to Philadelphia,
where he is yet employed, at 112 Chesnut
street.
EZEKIEL BIRDSEYE
STATE OF CONNECTICUT, Litchfield
County, ss. CORNWALL, June 2d, 1836.
Personally appeared the abovenamed
Ezekiel Birdsoye, and made oath to the
statements contained in the foregoing affi
davit by him, subscribed before me.
F. KELLOGG, Justice of the Peace.
Michigan has been the first State to legis
late in reference to the act of Congresscon
cerning the Deposites of Public Money.—
Her legislature, now in session, has passed
an act, which the Governor has approved,
authorizinff b the acceptance and reception of
her share of the Deposites to be made under
that act.
WHO WANTS A PLACE?--A gentleman in
Pawtucket advertises for a servant of mid
dling sized eharacter,large hands, and small
appetite. This gentleman must be a brother
of tho lady who kept a boarding house, and
wanted a few young_ men to board with her,
who were 'qdiet, kept regular hours, and
didn't eat much.
"What," exeleimed a promising lad who
had been reading of the illuminated missals
of former times; "what is an illuminated
missal, father?" "A red hot cannon ball,
sonny," replied the bullet•headed father.
-
A person lately falling into a mill stream,
was drawn into the wheel. "What is that
matter?" asked• a looker-on. - "Only a per ,
son travelling in cog," was the answer.
The following agricultural paragraph is.
from the Boston Morning Posh—" Rots is
crops?"--”Why, corn, tolorable--•wbest
aint none, but RYE and TATES--Ott Lordyll"
This is equal to the man complaining o(tho
high price of provisions. "Potatoes is fis t
and meat is riser."
JAMES FITTEN.