Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 26, 1857, Image 1
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rao. i. mhleb& co?- Proprietors, j Ail Independent Journal: For the Promotion of the Political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the South. j lewis k. oeist, pubimwr.
| VOL 3. YORKYILLE, 8. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 1857. NO. 13.
Original JJoelrg. j
For the Yorkville Enquirer. ODE
TO SPRING. 1
Sweetly sighing !1
Love's replying * j
To the heart-sick woods and rills, " !
^ Modest maiden,
Blushing uAiden"
Come in song upon the hills.
. 1
Winter's snowing,
And his blowing,
Nip the soul's empurpled flowers ; i
And, distilling ,
Grief, his chilling .
Ice-breath kills the rosy hours. J
Come, then, wooing, ]
To the cooing
Of the pine-enamored dove,
Sweet re-cooing
? To the wooing ]
Of her early-mated love. i
I Charmed at yonder
f Bird of wonder, i
Catch the spirit or his song ;
Arid, appealing
To their feeling, ]
Wake from death the flower-throng. <
Pouring daylight
O'er the gray height
Of yon spicy mountain, bring 1
Tropic blessings, . \
Sol's carcssings,
On thine odor-lnden wing. ^
Many an olden, . <
Many a golden,
Bove-thought in the poet's heart,
Thou bast planted,
As he panted, l
Pierced with Cupid's fiery dart.
Days of "Aiden," !
Lovely maiden! . 1
To the fancy-raptured young, ,
As they wander,
Wildly yonder,
Rocks, and rills, and meads among; i
Days of gladness
For the sadness
Of the care-worn, bringest thou ; Asking
only j
y Of the lonely
w But a grief-dispelling brow.
<
Hours sweet-gleaming i
Are the beaming * .
Aureola of thy head,
Bendiny o'er thee,
As \f o'er thee, ]
Bent the sainted of the dead. ,
Sunbeams, laden,
Passionate mAiden ! 1
With'thy smiles o'er earth are hurl'd : {
While thv fineer
Soft doth linger
On the harp-strings of the world. i
I
Bring thy blushes .
To the rushes
In the marshes by the sea ;
And thy whispers <
To the lispers
Of the wild-woods melody.
(
"Wake the mountains, * . i
And the fountains, ,
Where the tiny hunter's-cup
Scoops sweet-waters 1
For the daughters - 1
Of our sunny "Southron" ? up. j
l Yorkville maidens,?
Our's and "Aiden's,"? i
Teach that love alone is joy; \
And their bonnets ,
Line with sonnets?>,
Sonnets to the love #icfr boy ! i
t
Bring an olden, I
unng a goiuen,
Bring a poet's, joy to all;
And the nations, j
With thy passions,
Lift from everlasting thrall.
Teach Bncbanan ;
How to rein man
With the bit that checks the free ;
Wed our ,4Aiden" <
To the maiden? ,
Constitutional Liberty!
WILLIE.
Ebskine College. March 4tb, 1857.
^??? i
% Cljrilliiig Stars.
THE PEDLER'8 PRTIET
^ A cold winter's night found a stage-load
of us gathered about the warm fire of a tav- 1
ern bar-room of a New England village.?
Shortly after we arrived, a pedler drove up '
and ordered that his horse should be stabled
for the night. After we had eaten supper
we repaired to the bar-room, and as soon as
the ice was broken the conversation flowed
freely. Several anecdotes had been related,
and finally the pedler was asked to give us a
story, a9 men of his profession were generaly
full of adventures and anecdotes. He was a
short, thickset man, somewhere about forty
years of age, and gave evidence of great
physical strength. He gave his name as
Lemuel Viney, and his home was in Dover, :
New Hampshire.
'Well, gentlemen,' he commenced, knocking
the ashes from his pipe and putting it in
his pocket, "suppose I tell you abdht the :
last thing of any consequence that happen- j
o<1 tn mp Yon spp T am ttitw rlcrhf frnm
the Far West, and on my way home for winter
quarters. It was about two months ago,
one pleasant evening, that I pulled up at
the door of a small village tavern in Hancock
county, Indiana. I said it was pleasant?I
meant it was warm, but it was cloudy
and very likely to b? dark. I went in and
called for supper, and I had my horse taken
care of, and after I had eaten I sat down in
the bar-room. It began to rain about eight
o'clock, and for a while it poured down good,
and it was awful dark out doors.
"Now, I wanted to be in Jackson early
the next morning, for I expected a load of
goods there for me, which L intended to dispose
of on my way home. The moon would
rise about midnight, and I knew if it did
not rain I could get along very comfortably
through the mud after that. So I asked the
landlord if he could not see that my horse
was fed about midnight, as I wished to be
off before twOj He expressed some surprise
at this, asked me why not stop for breakfast.
I told him I bad sold my last load about all
| out, and that a new lot of goods was waiting
for me at Jackson, and I wanted to be there
before the express agent left in the morning.
There was a Dumber of people sitting arouud
while I told this, but I took but little notice
of them ; only one arrested my attention. 1
had in my possession a small package ol
placards, which I was to deliver to the Sherj
iff of Jackson, and tbey were notices for the
detection of a notorious robber named Dick
Hardhead. The bills gave a description ol
his person, and the man before me answered
very well to it. In fact it was perfect. He
was a tall, well-formed man, rather slight in
Frame, and had the appearance of a gentleman,
save that his face bore those hard, crusi
marks, which an observing man cannol
mistake for anything but the index of a villainous
disposition.
"When I went to my chamber I asked the
landlord who that man was, describing the
suspicious individual. He said he did not
know him. He had come there tbat afternoon
and intended to leave the next day.?
The host asked why I wished to know, and
[ simply told him that the man's countenance
was familiar, and I merely wished to
know if I wascver acquainted with hitn. I
resolved not to let the landlord into the se;ret,
bnt hurry on to Jackson, and there give
information to the sheriff, and, perhaps he
might reach the inn before the villain left;
for I had no doubt in regard to his identity
"I had an alarm watch, and having set it
to give the alarm at one o'clock, I went to
sleep. I was aroused at the proper time,
ind immediately got up and dressed myself.
When I reached the yard, I found the clouds
ill passed away and the moon was shining
brightly. The hostler was easily aroused,
ind by two o'clock I was on the road. The
mud was deep my horse could not travel
very fast?yet it struck me that the beast
made more work than there was any need of
"or the cart was nearly empty.
"However, on we went, and in the course
)f half an hour I was clear of the village.?
\t a short distance ahead lay a large tract of
'orest, mostly of great pines. The road led
directly though this wood, and as near as I
:ould remember, the distance was twelve
ailes. Yet the moon was in the east, and
is the road ran nearly west, I should have
ight enough. I had entered the woods, aud
rvAnn Kolf n milo txrhon mr wnnrAM lullPok1
JUU uua u UII1V 1IMVU mij tim^vu ti ttw jettlcd
with a bump and jerk, into a deep
bole. I uttered an exclamation of astonishment,
but that was not all. I heard another
;xclamation from another source!
"What could it be? I looked quickly
iround, but could see nothing. Yet I knew
that the sound I heard was close to me. As
the hind wheels came up, I felt something
besides the jerk of the wheels. I heard
something tumble from one side to the other
}f my wagon, and I could also feel the jar
jccasioned by the movement. It was a man
in ray cart! I simply knew this on the instant.
Of course I felt puzzled. At first I
magined some poor fellow had taken this
method to obtain a ride; but I soon gave
;his up, for I knew that any decent man
would have asked me for a ride. My next
dea was that somebody had got in to sleep;
jut this passed away as quickly as it came,
'or no man would have broken into my cart
for that purpose. And that thought, gen:lemcn,
opened my eyes. "Whoever was in
:here had broken in.
"My next thought were of Dick Hardhead.
He had heard me say that my load
was all sold out, and of course he supposed
[ had some money with me. . In this he was
right, for I .had over two thousand dollars.
[ also thought he meant to leave the cart
when he supposed I had reached a safe place,
md then either creep over and shoot me, 01
knock me down. All this passed through
rv?*? minrl V\tt flirt fimrt T Kor] r?rtf O Vrtrl frAin
llljf UllUU Mjr lUb blUiVy X UUV* u :u'j iivm
the hole.
"Now I never make it a point to brag ol
myself, but I have seen a great deal of the
world, and I am pretty cool aDd clear headed
under a difficulty. In a very few moments
my resolution was formed. My horse
was now knee deep in the mud, and I knew
I could slip off without noise. So I drew my
revolver?I never travel in that country
without one?I drew this, and having twined
the reins about the whip stock, I carefully
slid down in the mud, and as the cart
passed on I went behind it and examined
the hasp.
"The door of the cart lets down, and is
fastened by a hasp, which slides over a staple
and is then secured by a padlock. The
padlock was gone, and the hasp was secured
in its place by a bit of pine?so that a slight
force from within could break-it. My wheel
wrench hung in a leather bucket on the side
of the cart, and I quickly took it out and
slipped it into the staple, the iron handle
just slidding down.
"Now I had hiiu. My cart was almost
new. made in a stout frame of white oak,and
made on purpose for hard usage. I did not
believe any ordinary man could break out.
I got on to my cart as noiselessly as I got off
and then urged my horse on, still keeping
ray pistol handy. I knew that at tlic distance
of balf a mile further I should come
to a good hard road, and so I allowed my
horse to pick his own way through the mud,
About ten minutes after this I heard a motion
in the cart, followed by a grinding noise,
as though some heavy force were being ap
plied to the door. I said nothing, but the
idea struck me that the villiau might judg(
where I sat and shoot up through the top o;
the cart at nie, so I sat down on the foot
board.
"Of course, I knew now that my unex
pected posscnger was a villain, for lie mas
have been awake ever since I started, am
nothing in the world but absolute villain;
would have caused him to remain quiet si
long, and then start up in this particula
place. The thumping and pounding grev
louder and louder, and pretty soon I heard;
human voice
"Let me out of this/' he cried and hi
yelled pretty loud.
"I lifted up my head so as to make hin
think I was sitting in my usual place, am
then asked him what he was doing there.'
1 '"Let me out and I will tell you," be re- j
! plied.
"Te^l me what you are there for," said I. j
f ?I got in here to sleep on your rags," he
[ answered.
! "Let me out or I'll shoot you through the
: head, he yelled."
F "Just at that moment my horse's feet
I struck the hard road, and I knew that the
i rest of the road to Juckson would be good
i going. The distance was twelve miles. I
slipped back on the foot-board and took the
whip. I had the same horse I've pot now?
; a tall, stout, powerful bay mare?and you
may believe there's some go in her. "At any
rate she struck a gait that even astonished
i me. She had received a good mess of oats,
i the air was cool, and she felt like going. In
; fifteen minutes we cleared the woods, and
away we went on a keen jump. The chap
inside kept yelling to be let out.
1 "Finally he stopped, and in a few minutes
came the report of. a pistol?one?two?
?. three?four, one right after the other, and I
heard the balls whiz over mv head. If I
had been on my seat, one of these ball, if not
i two of them, would have pone through me.
! I popped up my head again, and pave a yell,
ahd then a deep groan, and then I said, "Oh,
God, save me! "I'm a dead man !" Then
I made a shuffling noise, as though I were
i falling off, and finally settled down on the
i foot-board again. I now urged on the old
mare by giving her an * occasional poke with
the butt of my whip stock, and she pealed it
i faster than ever.
"The man called out to me twice more,
pretty soon after this, and as he got no reply,
he made some tremendous efforts to break '
the door open, and as this failed him, he
made several attempts upon the top. But I
' had no fear of his doing anything there, for
the top of the cart is framed in with dove- i
tails, and each sleeper bolted to the posts
with iron bolts. I had made it so I could i
' carry'heavy loads there. By-and-bye, after
all else had failed, the scamp commenced to
hollow whoa to the horse, and kept it upun-til
he became quite hoarse. All this time I
kept perfectly quiet holding the reins firmly,
and kept poking tho beast with the stock.
"We were not an hour in going that doz- ,
! en miles?not a bit of it. I hadn't much
fear?perhaps I might tell the truth, and say
I had none, for I had a good pistol; and
more than that my passenger was snfe; yet
I was glad when I come to the old flour bar- ,
rel factory that stands at the edge of Jack- ,
son's village, and in ten minutes more I
hauled up in front of the tavern, and found
a couple of men in the barn cleaning down
some stage horses.
"Well, old feller," says I, as I got down,
and went rouud to the back of the wagon ;
"you have had a good ride, haven't ye ?"
"Who are you?" he cried, he kind of!
? . .1 - 1 1 1,1. __ I
swore a nttie, too, as ne asKea me question,
i "I'm the man you tried to shoot," was my
reply.
"Where am I ? Let me out!" he yelled.
"Look here, we've come to a safe stopping
place, and mind ye, my revolver is ready for
ye the moment you show yourself Now,
, lay quiet!"
"By this time the two hostlers had come
up to see what was the matter, and I explained
it to them. After this I got one of them
to run and route out the sheriff, and tell
what I believe I'd got for him. The first
streaks of daylight were just coming up, and
, in half an hour it would be broad daylight.
In less than that time'the sheriff came, and
two men came with him. I told the whole
affair in a few words?exhibited the hand.
bills I had for hiui, and then he made for
the cart. He told the chinp inside who he
was, and if he made the least resitance, he'd
be a dead man. Then I slipped the irou
. wrench out, and as I let the door down, the
fellow made a spring, I caught him by the
ankle, and he came dowu on his face, and
in a moment more the officers had him. It
was now daylight, and the moment I
saw the chap I recognized him He was
marched off to the lock up, and I told the
sheriff 1 should remain in town all day. .
"After breakfast, the sheriff came down '
to the tavern and told me that I had caught
the very bird, and that if I would remain
' until the next morning I should have the
reward of two huudred dollars, which had
I been offered. I found my goods all safe,
j paid the express agent for bringing them j
j trom lndiun-apoiis, ana tncn went to wont i
. tustow tlieui away in my cart. The bullet I
I holes were found in the top of my vehicle
' {just as I expected. Tbey were in a line,)
j about five inches apart; and had T been !
: i where I usually sit, two of threm would have !
j hit me somewhere nenr the small of the back, j
' j and passed upwards, for they were sent with j
j a heavy charge of powder, and his pistol was 1
' j a heavy one.
i "On the next morning the sheriff called |
' upon me, and paid me two hundred dollars
j in gold, for he made himself sure that he'd
1 got the villian. I afterwards found a letter
> in the post-office at Pourtsmouth for me,
j from the Sheriff of Hancock county, and he
| informed me that Mr. Dick Hardhead is in j
j prison for life."
I So ended the pedler's story. In the morning
I had the curiosity to look at the cart,
' and I found the bullet-holes just "as he "had !
told us, though they were now plugged up
witn vial corus. .
^ A Parson in. Difficulty.?A young
" parson lost his way in a forest, and it being
vehemently cold and rainey, he happened up
on a poor cottage, and desired a lodging or
t hay loft to stay in, and some fire to warm
1 him. The man told him that he and his
y wife had but one bed, and if he pleased to
3 lay with them he should be welcome. The
r parson thanked him and kindly accepted it.
v In the morning the man rose to go to mafa
ket, and meeting some of his neighbors he
fell a laughing. They asked him what made
e him so merry about the mouth. " Why,"
says he, " I can't but think how shamed the
a parson will be when he awakes to find himi
self in bed with my wife."?Pittsburg (Pa.)
' Post.
Select Mfafchtfl.
^
From the Western Democrat.
CHARLOTTE, N. C.
Besides the honor of being the seat of the
Convention in 177f>, that issued the first
Declaration of Independence, Charlotte, in
Mecklenburg, North Caiolina, has claims
upon posterity both singularand meritorious.
The centre of a fertile and populous country,
she was doomed to see the blood of her sous
shed, and the Declaration of Independence
of all foreign dominion maintained at the
point of the British bayonet.
Cornwallis called Charlotte the ''hornet's
nest," and unwilling to pay for supplies with
so much English blood, after the fatal battle
at King's Mountain became known to,bim,
his lordship determined to leave this vexatious
post. To prevent annoyance, he chose
to depart suddenly, and in the night. Mr.
McCalferv a man of wealth and standing, a
Scotchman, and resident in Charlotte, was
chosen as their guide to lead them by the
upper and nearest route to South Carolina.?
After so bewildering the army in the swamps
that much of their baggage was lost, he contrived
to escape, and leave the army to find
their way by the returning light of day.
Colonel Thomas Polk, so favorably mentioned
in the history of the Declaration,
owned property in and around Charlotte.?
His mill was between two and three miles
south of the village, and is now called Bissel's.
His body lies interred in the graveyard
of the village. Over his grave and that
of his wife Susannah, his son, William Polk,
late of Ealeigh, erected a marble slab, a
memorial of his resting place.
The Polk family came early to Mecklenburg,
and in the time of the Revolution were
numerous, and some of them very wealthy
They resided, part, of them, in the bounds
of Sugar Creek congregation, and part of
them in Providence. Among them was
Ezekiel Polk, the grandfather of James K.
Polk, President of the United States. The
descendants have all emigrated from the
country,'mostly to Tennessee, or States further
South.
Garden, in his anecdotes of the American
Revolution, says : "Nor were the Indies in
Mecklenburg in any degree inferior in enthusiasm
to the male population. I find in the
South Carolina and American General Gazette
from the 2d to the 9th of February,
the following paragraph:
" ?The young ladies of the best families
of Mecklenburg county, "North Carolina,
have entered into a voluntary association that
they will not receive the addresses of any
tirvii nf~r rmntlomon of fViof nlonn ovnftnt thn
juuu^ ^giiviwuiuii ub iuav piavv^ vnv
brave volunteers who served in the expidition
to South Carolina, and assisted in subduing
the Scovalite insurgents. The ladies
being of opinion that such persons as stay
loitering at home, when the important calls
of the country demartd their services abroad,
must certainly be destitute of that nobleness
of sentiment, that brave, manly spirit, which
would qualify them to be the defenders and
guardians of the fair sex.'
"The ladies of the adjoining county of
Rowan have desired the plan of a similar
association to be drawn up and prepared for
signatures."?Sketches of North- Carolina.
JEFFERSON AND HENRY.
The following sketch of Patrick Henry
by his cotemporary, Mr. Jefferson, will be
found interesting. It is taken from the advance
sheets of a work soon to be issued by
a Boston publisher, containing the private
correspondence of Daniel Webster. In 1824
Mr. Webster visited Jefferson at his home
at Monticello, and afterwards wrote out the
following opinion of Henry, expressed by
Mr. Jefferson at the time.
Patrick Henry was originally a barkeeper.
He was married very young, and going into
some business, on his own account, was a
bankrupt before the year was out. When I
was about the age of fifteen, I left the school
here, to go to the college at Williamsburg.
I stopped a few days at a friend's in the
county of Louisiana. There I first saw and
become acquainted with Patrick Henry.?
Having spent the Christmas holidays there,
I proceeded to Williamsburg. Some questions
arose about my admission, as my preparatory
studies had not been pursued at the
? i 3 ?f.L <i . ? rrL*
scnooi connected wun mai insmunon. imit
delayed my admission about a fortnight, at
which time Henry appeared at Williamsburg,
and applied for a license to practice
law, haviDg commenced the-study of it at,
or subsequent to the time of my meeting
him at Louisiana. There were four examiner??Wythe,
Pendleton, Peyton Randolph
and John Randolph. . Wythe and Pendleton
at once' rejected his application. The
two Randolphs, by his importunity, were
prevailed upon to sign the license; and having
obtained their signatures, he applied again
to%Pendleton, after much entreaty and
many promises of study succeeded in obtaining
his. The first case which brought
him into notice, was a contested election, in
which he appeared as counsel before a committee
of Burgesses. His second was the
Parson's cause, already well known. These
and similar efforts soon obtained for him so
much reputation, that he was elected a member
of the Legislature. He was as well
suited to the times as any man ever was, and
it is not easy to say what we should have
done without Patrick Henry. He was far
before all in maintaining the spirit of the
Revolution. His influence was most extensive
with the members from the upper counties,
aqd his boldness and their votes overawed
and controlled the more cool or the
more timid aristocratic gentlemen of the
lower part of the State. His eloquence was
peculiar, if indeed it should be called eloquence.;
for it was impressive ana sublime,
beyond what can be imagined. Although
it was difficult to know what he had said, yet,
while he was speaking, it always seemed directly
to the point. When he had spoken in
opposition to my opinion, bad produced a
*
great effect, and I myself been highly delighted
and moved, I have asked myself when he
had censed : "What the devil hns he said ?"
I could never answer the inquiry. His person
was full size and his manner and voice
free and manly. His utterance neither very
fast nor very slow. His speeches very short,
from a quarter to a half an hour. His pronunciation
was vulgar and vicious, hut it
was forgotten while he was speaking.
He was a man of very little knowledge of
any sort; he read nothing, and had no books, i
Returning one November from Albemarle 1
court, he borrowed of me Humes Essay in I
two volumes, saying he should have leisure |
in the Winter for reading. In the spring 1
he returned them; and declared he had noti \
been able to go further than twenty pages in
the first volume. He wrote almost nothing
?he could not write. The resolutions of 75
which have been ascribed to him, have by
many supposed to have been written by Mr. '
Johnson, who acted as his second on that oc
ic i? if i
wuaiuu y uub 11 mcjf nciu milieu xjj uiujocii
they are not such as to prove any power of '
composition. Neither in politics nor in his \
profession was he a man of business ) he '
was a man for debate only. His biographer 1
says that he read Plutarch every year. I
doubt whether he ever read a volume of it 1
in his life. His temper was excellent, and *
he generally observed decorum in debate.? '
On one or two occasions I have seen him 1
angry, and his anger was terrible: those
who witnessed it were not disposed to rouse 1
it again. In his opinions he was yielding (
and practicable and not disposed to differ 1
from his friends. In private conversation i
he was agreeable and facetious and while in
genteel society, appeared to understand all 1
the decencies and proprieties of it 5 but, in 1
his heart, lie preferred low society, and sought
it as often as possible. He would hunt in 1
the pine woods of Fluvanna; with overseers, '
and people of that description, living in a 1
camp for a fortnight at a time without a 1
change of raiment. I have often been as- '
tooishedat his command of proper language; '
how he attained a knowledge of it I never 1
could find out as he read so little and con- '
versed little with educated men. After all, '
it must be allowed that he was our leader in '
the measures of the Revolution in Virginia.
In that respect more was due him that any '
other person. If we had not had hiin, we '
should probably have got out pretty well, '
as you did, by a number of men of nearly '
equal talents, but he left us all far behind.
His biographer sent the sheets of his work
to me as they were printed, and at the end
asked my opinion. I told him it would be a ;
question hereafter, whether his work should 1
i be placed on the shelf of history or pane|
gyric.
CHRIST NO WRITER.
One of the most remarkable facts in the
: history of Christ is, that he left no writings
behind him, and the ouly record there is of
his writing anything is in the case where 'he
stcoped down and with his finger wrote upon 1
the ground." What he wrote then and
there no one knows; though perhaps the
most plausible conjecture is that he wrote
the answer to the question, whether the
woman taken in the act of adultery should
be stoned ? "He that is without sin among 1
you, let him cast a stone at her." Hearer,
did this strange fact ever occur to you, that
the greatest reformer that ever lived?professedly
the divine teacher sent of God to
reveal his truth to the world?whose teachings
have survived the wreck of ages, and
now command the credence, the respect and 1
the most profound admiration of the enlightened
world, and who is claimed as the "au- 1
thor and finisher" of a great system of faith
and practice; has left behind him no sentence
of his writing, and those unknown charac- 1
ters written with his fioger in the sand constitute
the sum total of all his writings of 1
which there is any account ?
Is there, or has there ever been, since the
invention of letters, or ever, rude hieroglyph- 1
ics, any such thing as a system of religion, ;
whose founder did not take special pains to
reduce his teachings to writing, and thus'
give thein the most exact and permanent
form ?
The Brahminshave their Vedas, their Pou!
ranas, their Ramayan, and their laws and in'
stitutcs of Menu, and these are all written
! aud preserved with the utmost care. The
I Chinese have their hooks of Fohi, their
founder, as opened and expounded by their
I great Confucius. The Persians have their
I Zendevesta, attributed to their leader, Zoroj
aster, containing the doctrine and laws of
their religion. The Jews had their sacred
I books; irnd Moses and the prophets, and
i David, and Solomon, put their teachings in
I writing, that they might be preserved.
Plato and Pythagoras, and Cicero and Demosthenes,
wrote much. Mahomet wrote
the Koran, and gave it to the faithful as
their guide. The writings of Swedenborg
are voluminous; and in our day, even the
Mormon impostor wrote his books of Mormon.
But here comes one who claims precedence
even to Moses and Abraham, and i
' 11 I ,i . . .i n l
especially claims tnac a greater man ooiomon
is in his own person, and announcing himself
as a herald of a new dispensation from
God; which is to cast Moses and the prophets
in the shade, and prevail over all other systems,
and subdue our entire race, and yet
this great teacher wrote never a word, save
only the characters in the sand, which the
next breath of wind might obliterate. Who
can account for this procedure ? Will it
comport at all with the idea that he- was an
impostor ? Did ever an impostor pursue a
course like this? Never. And it seems to
us that in the single fact to whioh we have*
alluded, there is the impress of truth, and
proof that his mission is all divine. He
stands out before us as one who knows that
his mission is from God, and that it can
stand upon its own merit^ So confident is
he of its power, that he is content to breathe
it out upon God's air, and leave it to live by
its own inherent and self-perpetuating im- i
mortality, or live not at all. And sohegoes '
about doing good, now teaching in the syn
agogue and temple, now talking to his dis- t
ciplcs as he sits on Olivet or by the sea of z
Galilee, and now dropping a word as he walks t
by the way. And there is not manifested I
the slightest apprehension that what he says i
will be lost. lie writes it not on stone or o
parchment. Nay, he writes it not at all.? n
He seeks only to give it a lodgment in the ?
hearts of the few disciples that followed him 6
?to make them comprehend it, and feel its fi
power, and love it; and is willing to leave it
there to produce its fruits, and to he written D
by the hand of.affection, if it should be writ- 0
ten at all. And on those hearts he did im- f
press himself; and they, for the love they {\
bore him, wrote the meagre sketch we have r
sf his life and teachings. t,
Rev. J. J). Wittiamwn. p
^ s
FRANCIS, LORD NAPIER. ]j
The distinguished gentleman, now the ac- n
credited Minister Plenipotentiary of Great u
Britain to our Government at Washington, 8,
is yet comparatively a young man. He was t]
born in 1819, and will be only thirty-eight s;
(rears of age in September Dext, but he has
had much experience in diplomatic life, bav- .
ing been from early years in that department. .
A few words as to the history of his family ^
may not be uninteresting. The name of cj
the original family was Lenox, and was s
jhanged in this wise, as related in an old 81
history:
"One of the ancient Earls of Lenox in 11
Scotland, had three sons. The eldest sue- ^
needed him in the Earldom of Lenox; the ^
second, was named Donald, and the third,
Glilchrist. ?
"The then King 6f Scotts, was engaged 11
in wars, and among those who were com- ?
manded to serve him was the Earl of Lenox, ^
who, keeping his eldest son at home, sent his ^
second son (Donald) to serve for him.
'This battle went hard for the Scotts, who ?
were f#ccd to lose ground?and at last to
run away; which being perceived by Donald,
he pulled his father's standard _ from the
bearer thereof, and valiantly encountered
the foe. Being well followed, he repulsed j
the enemy and changed the fortune of the
iay, where by a great victory was got. Af- *
' ?. 1 U a 11. rt ITtnM nni J .. i. .n tlinm ^
LCi IIJU uotur tlic 1\1U^ 9U1U ULIIU LXICUl
1 You have all done valiantly, hut there if ^
we among you who hath na pier"?and
jailing Donald to his presence, in regard to ?
his worthy service, gave him in augmentation
>f honor, to change his name from Lenox to ?
Napier, and gave him the lands of Gosford,"
fee. a
. The next-distinguished man of -this line '
was Sir John Napier. He was the inventor a
of logarithms, and was also the author of "A 8
Treatise on the Revelation of Saint John." ?
Hume, the historian, speaks of him as one
to whom ?the title of great man is more ^
justly due than to any other whom his country
ever produced." These works will ro- 8
main lasting monuments of his sublime judgment,
knowledge and penetration."
The eldest son of this man was Archibald, ?
afterward created first Lord Napier) and the
present Francis, Lord Napier, (now with us,)
in his direct descendant in an unbroken line. j
. The other branches of the family number ^
many distinguished personages, whose names ^
and deeds, as soldiers, sailors, and writers,
are found in history They all come from C
this original stock?"Donald" (Lenox) C
ehanged on the battle field (for distinguished
valor) to Na-Pier, down through logarithms,
and hard study, and hard fighting,
to the present day, and hisjory as yet records s<
no act that brings a stain upon the name u
and blood of Napier. The present Minister h
is universally regarded as a gentleman of b
close observation and industry, whose urbani- h
ty and kind feeling are only equalled by his tl
modesty and courteous deference. We have p
every reason to hope that he will realize in fl
his reception and sojourn with us, all the u
success and gratification he and his Govern- c
ment anticipate, and that the same spirit in C
which he was selected to represent his coun- u
try here, will be found in the Government ti
ind people to whom he is accredited.?Jour. *
Com. ' ii
? *- i<
THE DEED SCOT CASE. s<
The late decision, or, rather, the series of s<
lecisions of the Supreme Court of the Uni- d
ted States in the Dred Scott case, is of more tl
ritnl importance in reference to the settle- u
nent of the slavery question than any or all ai
he other acts and proceedings upon this o:
iubject?legislative and judicial, State or a
Ederal?since the organization of the gen- a
?ral government. d
This supreme and final tribunal in the in- U
;erpret.ation of the constitution and the laws,
las decreed that negroes or men of the Af- di
ican nice, whether bond or free are not citi- st
sens of the United States by the federal pi
institution; that the ordinance of 1787 was bl
superceded by the constitution; that the ?
Missouri compromise of 1820 was an un- a
institutional act; that slaveholders have the b<
ight to carry their slaves into the Territories; pi
hat the legal condition of a slave in a slave tl
State is not affected by his temporary sojourn m
n a free State; and that Congress has no at
lower over the question of slavery in a Ter- tr
itory, and cannot delegate any power over bi
;he subject to the Territorial Legislature. ol
The importance and comprehensive bear- in
ngs of these decisions cannot be over-esti- tl
nated?they cover all the disturbing party o;
tud sectional issues upon the slavery contro- it
rersy, and strike at the root of the mischief h
n every case. Is
First, the supreme judicial tribunal of the b
Union decides that, according to the consti- u
;ution, negroes are not citizens, whether free tl
nen or slaves. In other words, ours is the ti
white man's constitution, and the negro, as g
i citizen, is absolutely ignored. The cense- tl
juence is, that all the existing constitutions n
ind laws of the free States elevating negroes a!
to the rights and privileges of citizenship, a:
ire null and void; for, in this authoritatively
declared meaning of the constitution, to w
be a citizen of a State is to be a citizen of p
the L nited States, inasmuch as the constitu- tl
tion expressly ordains (Art 4, Sec. 2,) that o
'< the citizen of each State shall be entitled p
o all the privileges and itnmmunitiea of citi*
ens in the several States." This decision,
herefore, settles the old difficulty between
dassaohnsetts and Sonth Carolina concern*
Dg the free colored citizens cooks and seamen
f the former, treated only as dangerous free ^
legroes upon entering the ports of the latter .-.-I
State. The decision is against Massachn*
etts and her free colored citizens, and in
?vor of South Carolina.
The decision concerning the federal orfi*'
ancgof 1787 and the Missouri compromise
f 1820 establish the full validity of tho
[ansas-Nebraska bill, as tho true coustitu*
ional policy in regard to slavery in the Teritories.
The deciaion concerning slaves in
ransiln through a free State, or the tempo*
ary sojourn of a Southern slave in a free
Itate, settles the Lemmon case, and all cases
ke that of Mr. Wheeler, of North Carolia,
whose slaves at Philadelphia, were so
nceremonionsly spirited away; and iu all
ixch cases- the supreme decree is decisive of
be slaveholder's constitutional rights to bis
lave property. 1 .
x>ut toe most important ot these supreme
ecisions, in a political party view, is tho
ndgment that Congress has no power, and
an delegate nc power over th? question of
lavery in the 1 ritories. Thisdecisionata
ingle blow shivers the anti-slavery platform
f the late great Northern republican party
ito atoms. The policy of legislating slavery
ut of Kansas and the other Territories of
bo Union by Congress will no longer avail
bera. Congress hate no power in the premies.
That is settled. What was in doubt is
a doubt no longer. The supreme law is exounded
by the supreme authority, and disoedience
is rebellion, treason and revolution,
'he republican party henceforth must choose
etween submission and revolution?loyalty
r treason to the government. The gall and itterness
of the New York Tribune are berayed
in its mad assertion that these vital
nd final decisions of our Supreme Judges
re ? entitled to just so much moraleyej%ht /
s would be the judgment of a majority of
bose congregated in any Washington bar3om."
But this madness of our Seward
rgans will avail nothing. The only alterative
to the anti-slavery fractions of the
forth, from the Garrison to the Seward and
riginal Van Buran fractions, is loyalty or
reason, submission or rebellion.
Unquestior ably this bombshell from the
lupreme Courf? together with the inaugural ^
nd the Cabinet of the new administration,
rill at once re-open the .slavery agitation in.
11 its length and breadth; but henceforth
lavery in the Territories is an issue which . ,
aust be decided by the laws of olimate, pro!ucts,
races, and the natural laws of our poplation
and our emigration; for Congress
enceforth can have nothing to do with the
ubject. Meantime, the new administraion,
relieved of the precedents of the Mis
ouri compromise, the Wilmot proviso, and
11 other unconstitutional laws and proceed* *
Dgs of the government during the last for*
jr years on the slavey question, had its
ourse plainly and antboratively marked oat. N
n this respect Mr. Buchanan is particularly
ortunate, and his administration will, we
are say, be singularly satisfactory and sue*
essful, for the people are ever loyal to the
onstitution and the laws.
JOHH BUNYAN.
Bunyan had been bred a tinker, and had
erved as a private soldier in the Parliamen*
ary army. Early in his private life, he
ad been fearfully tortured by remorse for
is youthfnl sins, the worst of which seems,
owever, to have been such as the world
hinks venial. His keen sensibility and his
owerful imagination, made his internal con* '*'
icts singular, terrible. He fancied he was ,
nder sentence of reprobation?that he had
ommitted blasphemy against the Holy
rhost?that he had sold Christ?that he
ras actually possessed by a demon. Some*
imes loud voices from heaven cried out to
rarn him. Sometimes friends whispered
npious 'suggestion in his ear. He saw vis*,
jns of distant mountain tope, on which the
an shone brightly, But from which be was
jparated by a waste of snow. Be felt the
evil behind him pulling his clothes. He
nought that the brand of Cain had been.set
pon him. He feared he was about to break
sunder like Judas. His mental agony-disrdered
his health. One day be shook like
man in the paley. On another day he felt
fire within his breast. It is difficult to un
erstand how he survived suffering so inmse
and so long continued.
At length the crowds broke. From the
epths of despair the penitent passed to a
ate of serene felicity. An irresistable imnlse
now urged him to impart to others the
lessings of which he was himself possessed,
[e joined the Baptists, and became himself
preacher and writer. His education had
sen that of a mechanic. He knew no lanuage
but the English, as it was spoken by
le common people. He had studied no great
odel of composition, with the exeepthm-?
i important exception undoubtedly--of our
anslation of the Biblfe. His spelling was
id. He frequently transgressed the rules
' grammar. Yet the native force of genis,
and his experimental knowledge of all
ie religious passions from despair to exstay,
amply supplied iu him the want of learn,
ig. His rude oratory roused and melted
earers who listened without interest to the
ibored discourses of great logicians and He
raists. Mis works are widely circulated aloag
the humbler classes. One of them,
le Pilgrim's Progress, was in his own lifeme
translated into several foreign langna08.
It was, however, scarcely known to
ie learned and polite, and had been, daring
ear a century, the delight of pious cottagers
ad artizans, before it was commended by
y man of high literary eminence.
At length oritios condescended to inquire
rhere the secret of so wide and durable a
opularity lay. They were oompelled to own
bat the ignorant multitude had judged more
orrectly than the learned, and that the. desised
little book was really a masterpiece.