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VOLUME III. SUMTERVILLE, S. C. A UGUST 1, 1849. NUMBER 40 Thle Sumter Banner: UBLISiIED 1fEltY WEllNEi)SAY 0il11iNING, BY WILL LAM J. FRANCIS. Tr E It M S: Too Dol!ars in advance, Two Dollars and Fifty-cents at the ex )iration of'six months, or Three 1)ollars at t.e end of the year. No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of time Proprietor 7a-Advertisernents inserted at 75 ets. per square, (14 lines or less,) for the first and half that sum for each snbsegnent. insertion 1 UPThe niber of insertions to be snarlked on all Advertisements or they will be publish ed until ordered to be discontinned, and charged accordingly. a -One )ollar per square for a single in sertion. Quarterly and Mont ibly Advertise tnents will be charged the sane as a single nsertion, and semi-monthly the situne as new Ones. All Obituary Notices exceeding six lines, and Coinnunications rcconmnendi ng C:nd dates for public offices or trust-or puing Exhibitions, will be charged as Advertise ments. IitAll letters by mail must be paid to in sure punctual attendance. TIIINGS IIARDLY TO BE BELIEVED. BY MRS. LYI>IA JANE l'EIISON. 'Well, I declare, this is hardly to be believed!' exclaimed Mrs. Gran'dy, as she threw down a letter which she had been perusing, and turned towards her daughter, who was reclining on a crim son cushioned lounge, in the most ap proved style of dress, attitude and ex pression. The young lady lifted her jewelled hand, and raised her sleepy lidded eyes with enquiring interest, as she breathed forth in an affected tone of music. 'Pray, what have you found dear manna? I am longing for something to chase away this horrible etnui.' 'It is hardly to be believed, I repeat Amia--your uncle Meek has written me, that he intents to send his daug_<ht er Lucy, to spend the winter with us. I cannot refuse to receive her, for she is my sister's child-but, dear mne ! what shall we do with the rustic creature? 'IIow came your sister to marry a farmer, inanuna?' " 'Why Amnina, while pa was a senator. sinter andcl I accompanied him to Wash 1'ton, one winter, aid there we met .r. Meek, a young and talented mei ber of Congress. Your anlot was cap tivated by his fine person, real elii quence and open manly character, and although she knew that he was only a farmer at htonie, she persisted in be coining his wife. So be took her to his home in the new State of Ohio, and I have not seen her since; for she soon became a mother, and has several chil dren. so that site was confined at home and I have been so very delicate iii health, that I never dared to try such a journey. But she used to write frequently, and although she always professed herself perfectly happy, she gave such descriptions of her domestic affairs, that I am sure I should have been utterly miserable in her situation. And this daughter of hers, who milks the cows, anid makes butter and chieese, and spins yarut, and weaves cloth, and bakes bread, and washes clothes, anad scrubs floors,-whtv shte must be a grt stout looking cr'eatuire, like a man, with sun-burnt face, and coarse hanids and feet, and voice like a miarket womtan. Anid then site will be0 so awkward-oh dear ! what shall we do withi her ?' 'WhTiy ma, vou realy frighten tme; you must not let her come, certainly. I never coulid itntrouce such a cousin to society, and cert ainily I woulid not forego all pleasutrc and remain at home with hter.' 'I cannot reftise to receive her, deat Aminia-but site is so unisophtistiented, that we can do witht her aIS we lae If we can mnake nothing presentable of her, why we can keep her out of' sight. But it will -cost tme so mutich to dress her. Of course site will have nto clothes fit to be seeni.' 'Well, mamma, on second thtoughits, we will let hetr come. She will amxuso sotme of my leisure mnonmnts. If I should become interested ini her', I should fitnd empldoymntt in tecaching hetr politeness and etiquette. If sihe does not interest me, sihe will 1)e a fine sub ject for ridicule.' And so the matter' stoodi. Mmrs. Gramndy was jutst ont the eve of' a gr-and party, to which she had invi ted the ''aristocracy'' of the city. She was occupied ini [iaishiing her ar tirgtfemts andu addinag the crownmig I grace to the labhors5 of servants, and up-. 1Laserers, nheni she was stltuned by the ntelligenco that Miss Lucy Meek was n the parlor. 'Good heaven ! what shall do ?' she ;ried, addressing her daughter, who vas sauntering by her side, and lan ;idly criticising the arrangements. If she only had staid until after the >arty !--What can we do with her?' 'We must at least proceed to the par or, and try to welcome her with civili y.' remarked Amina. 'Sle may not. )e so unpresenltablc as we have pictur d her.' And the high bred mother and laughter descended to the palor, deter nining to treat the awkward country ;irl with all the condescending kindness 'ossible. Their surprise was no less over wvhelming than agreeable, when they Jeheld seated perfectly at case, with a ook which she taken from the centre table, a lovely little girl, fair as a lily, with very small hands, and a foot peep Lug from beneath her travelling dress, is if defying competition-which it might have done with safety. She no scner perceived her relatives than she sprang to meet them, in the most affec tionate manner, and returned graceful ly the embraces and kisses which they bestowed upon her with real pleasure. When Amina, after showing Lucy to her chamber, joined her mother in the saloon, she exclaimed 'Oh mamma ! I could hardly have believed that a young lady educated in the country, could have been so per fectly genteel as cousin Lucy is. I love her dearly, already. And then her wardrobe-why ma, her dresses are really elegant. o simple and taste ful in style, just like her sweet self, she has never been inured to labor, I am certain.' 'Certainly not,' replied Mrs. G randy; 'and I am happy to find my sister's daughter a real lady. .1 am glad now that she has arrived before the party. She is such an elegant contrast to You, Aimina. You will be the rose of the arterre, and she will represent the pure white lily.' When the fimily met at dinner, Mrs. Grandy was almost in despair. The cook that she had hired expressly to prepalre refreshments for the party, was taken suddenly and violently ill, and neither maid nor mistress knew how to cOImlpoind or fashion the quan tiies of beaten eggs, grated sugars, effervesced cream and butter milk, pul verized spices, and clarified butter, that formed with flour, and yeast, and citrons and oran;e.s, raisins and currants, and confectionary, a medley of confusion, in pantry and kitchen. 'Do you not undestand baking?' ask ed Lucy of Amina. 'Oh ! indeed, no;' replied the aston ished belle. 'Nor you, aunt?' she enquired of Mrs G(randyv. 'My dear, I never learned,' muriner ed the lady. 'It is very strange.' Lucy said--amd then she went oin--' Well aunit, if you will trust me, I will produce as fine eakes as any cook in the city.' 'You ale too young, Lucy,' cried Mrs. G radmiy, 'even if you had studied e >ols iing all your life ; bust you seem so, conifidlent, and as I can (do no better, youh miay tryv.' 'Will you assist me, Anmina? I will en1gage that s) far from) injuIrinhg your fair hands, the slight toil will increaise thejir beauty.' 'JDut what cain I do?' asked Ainmina, hnighing. 'Ohl, I will direct you,' replied Luc y-, gaily; and the co'usims repaired to tilie kitchen, where the clatter of culinarv )perationls was enlivened by merry Lurts of laughter, anid joyous gu-uhes of sweet song. Lucy muade her dlebut at Mrs. G ran ly 's select party, in a robe of putre white muslin, lher rich brownc curls unI .onfinied, except hy a fillet of silver .aze, tied just back of the left ear, and loatinig like a soft mist below her grace u1 waist. Other ornamnent she wore lone; yet amid fine formns, robed in vel -ets and satins, fishuinig with gemis, and lowers, and feathecrs, she seemedci a piiit of a purer~ sp here, and was deci. ledl y the belle, or godd ess of the gay al oo ns. 'Do' you sing, Miss Meek?' enqunired lie rich and fashiionmable M r. G olby', as lIiss Granitdy arose from the piamno. 'Oh yes,' she replied, laughing, 'I ing like a wild bird, but 1 (do not play r make music scientihically .' Ry thmis time she was the centre of mu expectant circle, all eager for the onig; and shie without a shiado'w of em arrassmenIt , sang the E'ttrick Shiep erdls, ' lird of the wilderness,-' to a ,ild sweet air, which theo skyv-lark him. self might have paused to hear. It was perfectly enchanting, and the free, full soul of native melody, and the man ner in which she gave the line-' Oh to abide in the desert with thee,' was inlimitable. 'What a paragon this elegant little neico of yours is,' remarked Mrs. Le G rand to Mrs. G randy, a few days af ter the party. 'So gr'aceful, aud then she has such perfect taste. Why, her dress, person and character hartmonize so entirely, that one almost suppo ses they came from the same forming hand, a perfect "hole. Indeed, vou have reason to be proud of her, she is such an ornament to vour fuinily iparty. She must been educated at the south, or in Europe. for our schools do not giveso perfect a finish." 'Inded, Mrs. Le Grand, you pav my niece high compliments. But she is a fitrmer's daughter, and has never been from home until she camse here a few days ago. She has actquired her accoinplislhnents in the school (f na ture. But she acqiuired accomplish ments, which put me sadly to the lhish. Why-the day before my party, Mlad. Este, whom I had emiployet to comn pound my cakes, was taken sick, just as she had got her ingredients strened round in utter and inextricable confu sion. I was in despair, but I Lucy said that if Anina would assist her, she would make all right. And she did mix al.d bake all my cakes which were so much adtired.' 'WVell, now,'--exelaimned Mrs. Le Grand, 'I can hardly believe these things possible. And Miss Meek is so young, and has such perfect little hands.' 'Yes,' replied the aunt, 'and vou should see her inice flannel skirts-so tine and soft ; and site spun the yarn and wove the cloth herself.' 'I an astonished,' cried Mr-s. L.e G rat ; why site is an anoialy.' 'Sle says not.' replied 31rs. G ran dy ; 'site insists that all the girls inl her neighborhood are equally accomplished; soine her superiors. And I am begin nItg to be of her opinion, that inl this country, where the rich to day are poor to-nmorrow, and vice versa, vou ung la dies should be educated in such a manner as to grace a palace, or make a hovel clean and ce.infrtable. Aimia is iinproving her opportunity, and learning of Lucy to cook every kind of flesh and fish, and to imake cakes and pastry. Luce assures her that she msill be both heahltier and happier, in conse quiience.' Well, I declare,' cried Mrs. Le Grand, 'such things are hardly to be believed.' 'And so Miss Meek has refused lr. Gilby, and gone htone to her fatlter's,' reinarked a young lady to her beau, as they walked beneath the soft sut-lihtt of early spring. 'It is very stran ge,' was the reply 'and it. or Gobl' Iby is nearly distractei. I never riup1posed that he had so inttl heart. Ile sets out in a few ha vs ir EAtrope. The young lady unitst ha. e been preen g agd, for indepeoleit of his wealth, fhe is a line youneg luan.' 'lie is sio,' sighed te lady. '..\nd Mis %leek oi'ily a falt'iltes athitlgflter Ii2chn-e it is har dly to be beiie ve.'I lsten to tile ctlvetitioli of this s~lune alidth eiltl eillall~ -llowm inal'tinct e~utr ulsed to f1 lew iiinbehriii.r eli tile (Oh~io. Thty' 5ay, hoiwever. that hec is airt'aivy lactv ittiS 5ilitelilt muiigk h~oitiyl i:tbut itci is siu lr ht . inig rejected ( tilby.' I Aie v Iats utot, acted il ~I oilt i elle tioil, I isilre yoll. Site is ant e.\tribr dliinary 'girl lrs. Gruandty bles-es hier natine daily. She~ saysv that sintce they are reduied, they'\ shiutt he it jerlletly iiniserabhle, but for thei sphtit that Andnalt~ eauighit of lier cousin i~uey, andtt the iesstins site iClene oif her'. I) e.s i seelln woderfuil ti See A ltinat, who waU. the, houtse ini lhen neat cheick aprot, andt sining gaily ~i' as site herfoits the h'iiss of h)o:h coik andi htoutse-uttid. ha~ve kntown her refuse a levv to ani th ject (of chtarity, whe n er pus un fuli of gol. Now site will save froitl her! niecessit ies to liiister to the sick and~t nietdy. Andthti site and lier. laret no0w, thant t he y w ete ini th ir d ays of wealth andi indolence. I (declare, witen I look back. and thent turn to the nrs ent, I can hardly believe what 1 see.' Lucy Meek was married seventeen years ago. We will now look at the present condition of the parties named above. Lucy's husband, the son of a lumber man-who took his bride to a log cahin, an( conmuenced housekeep ing without a servant to aid her in her house-work-has risen rapidly from one post of honor and profit to another, un til he is now governor of one of the lar gest ando richest States in the Union, -aind his country house is a palace, surrounded by a beautifil Eden of his 01wn planiiiig aind -il titig, where lie is now enabled to eljo, he~alth, ease, hon oir, an I~l ini !ess, surrotulded by his lovely :and beloved lantil y. M1r. Gruudly, w'ih,, after his fahilre, accepted a clerk's oiliee and salary, 1w I:erf ins the duties of the 'lace, behind tie accountant's desk, in the store of his soi-in-law. Miss A'ina wias iarried to this gentleman when lie was a clerk inl a dry good store in New York ; butt by indtistry, economy and strict honestyv-in all which lie has been aided and1 sustainied by his wife he is now a flourishing merchant, in Plitsbiurgh, lPa. irs. Grandy resides with her daughter, and she insists that the reverse of fortilie which made thei SO much wizer and better, and happier, was certainly n1o liiisfortunie. Airs. 1e Gratid, who was Mrs. Graliy's niost intimate friend. but who eomld not recogtnize her after her hus band's failure, died in a garret two yea-s ao. Mr. Le (.rand lost his pr)'r'ity inl great a fire in New Yrk, i lecame (lisiea:-tened, and gave lus t11 up to iiebiriety. One of his S nI ui . ii aprcntice. and one a loafer; Slhis two daiughters, one is a governess o'' mltirsery maiid iin a rich vublar faiily -the othet is nltarried to a CoinittiO'i sailor, a fine, intelligent f-I low, who inay yet bi cme an ahniiral or- a kinzg So little reason has any one in this pcuba icni coutitrv to be lifted up h the ire accident of wealth or station. The poorest man's child may arrive at the highest honois of State. Ilie who is I'resenit tol day, is a private citizen toiuorrow-lial!h- to lose every dollar he Iipossesses, :iit he overwlcllnel with debt al inisery. ]Iis child, though born while his fither h:resides ever the coiuicils of this wide land, may eventu ally- carn his bread as a day laborer ; while the son if the maid-servant, who cleaned the kitechen of the Presidentls hltise, inay be carried there in triumph, as its chosen occupant. Ilow ridicu Ious tlLt in this land, is haughty pride of wealth or station. I low contenpti b le alpars the 'aristocracy,' applied to :ay elinue or harty. Or can there lie aliy thing more riliculously absurd, thai the iiti'i-rtilig fine quialities of mii or persI'on, to atny particular class or lo cality. And yet the:e things are all pr:actised, while tlinaking n.inds observe the ciintint iauitations of the wheel of fortiliie, atnI valtie everv persoi accorid il to the intrimsie worth of cbaracter, --wii le tliin gs hardly to lie believed, pass conltilnuaill y hefilre them. ( )iii;N (IF TiE -intu: TAtI.S, A 11 theer t-:tl dys id tie Titrl:isli tol arh, bei,.r its illinilliontls werec st nidel spr:i- a they, arec at present, theiTuks wer-a- difeated ini apicd hait te. :itd lii)0 if thetm taikeni prision i.rs. Theyu- wer a- ll 1:ept tiogethei- I st':iil if lan ii: hei -a divided intii small b5i . ti'1 -tnt ii.t d ii-rent ton ns1fo edl. S'ine '-f th...mi oterviing uht. (lie hote nljvedl h I es thatt they ni elnketheir- ..uards their pi isoniels. yIVvim ecnnni1-:o hir-ll1i plan to the s-I :ed that they shiulil free then.sefres, colir. ors:tiularh mialer ub ich they '"e sup: ly theo dl~eciv cuittinug 'l dthi! l f --ine- hiorses bielotigmg to, Iack~ thiri g.uariI.. u hami thev' easily tiwil rinta'- ' it , ii eg - ii- lit-otd )i V alUii -uea lie I eit~ to y ( iboe Oiy annyf 'midi h c lce toops ' haiv-ea b-com he h~t les of-r thi Genieratls, wi hos mciilitary rlak is knlownl biy thie maiiubr of tails they hoear-. No Generabdl anli-)ii tiicm e- mnen than three; and, according to the number of them they are denominated Bashaws, or Pachas, of one, two, or three tails. Indian Legends. TIIE LOVER STAR. A LEGEND OF THE CIIIPPEWYANS. There was once a quarrel among the stars, when one of them was driven away from its home in the heavens and descended to the earth. It wandered from one tribe of Indians to another, and had been seen hovering over the camni)-fi es of a thousand Indians when they were preparing themselves to sleep. It ahvays attracting themselves to sleep. ed wonder and admiration. It often lighted upon the heads of little children, as if ibr the purpose of playing with them, but they were invariably fright ened and drove it away by tleir loud ci ying. Among all the people in the world only one could be found who was not afraid of this beautiful star, and this was a little girl, the daughter of a Chiippewvan warrior. She was not afraid of the star, but rather than this she loved it wuith her whole heart and was very happy in her love. That she was loved by the star in return there could be no doubt, for wherever she travelled with her father through the wilderness then as the night cane on dii the star follow, but it was never seen in the day time. When the girl awoke at night the star floated just above her head, and, when she was asleep so constant in its watchfulness that she never opened her eyes, even at umidinight, without beholding its bril liant liglht. People wondered at this strange condition of things, but how much more did they wonder when they found that the father of the girl never retut ned from the hunt without an abun dance of game. They therefore con eluded that the star must be the son of the Good Spirit, and they ever after spoke of it with veneration. Time passed on, and it was midsum mer. The Indian girl had gone into the woods for the purpose of gathering berries. 'Those 'of the wintergreen were nearly all eaten up by the pigeons and the deer, and, as the cranberries were beginning to ripen, she wandered into a large marsh with a view of filling her willow basket with them. She did so, and in the tangled thickets of the swamp she lost her way. She became frightened and cried aloud for her fa tier to come to her assistance. The only creatures that answered her cries were the frogs and the lonely bittern. The night was rapidly coming, and the iurther she wandered the more intricate become her path. At one time she was compelled to wade into the water even to her knees, and then again would she fall into a deep hole and almost become drowned among the poisonous slime and weeds. Night came, and the poor girl looked uip at the sky, hoping that she might see the star that she loved. A storm had arisen and the rain fell so rapidly that a star could not live in it, and therefore was there none to be seen. The storm continued, the wa iers of the country rose, end, in rush tug into the deeper lakes, they destroy ed the Inidiamn girl, and washed her body away so that it never could be foiud. Mlany seasons passed away and the stamr conitinuedl to be seen above the w atech-fires of the (Chipp~ewyan~s; but it would never rensain long in one place, and its light api eared to have become dlinunied. It ever seemed to be looking f or s. mnethiing that it could not find, anid peole knew that it was unhappy on ac cuntt of the unttimely (death of the girl it had loved. Additionad years passed on, anid, wvith the leavtes of autumn, it liinally disa ppeared. A cold antd long winter soon followed, and then the hot test summer that had ever beenm known. I hiring this season it so happened that ai hunter chanced at nighit to foillowva hear into one of thid largest swamps of lie lantd, when to his astonishment hie discovered a small light hanging over the 'water. It was so beautiful that he 1fIlliwed it for a long distanice, but it led into suchm dangerous places that he gave up I the pursuit , anid, returned to tell his people what lie had seen. And then it wais thaot thei old 1est meni of the tribe told him that the light lie had seen was the staor lhat head seen was the star that had beeni divein from lieaveni, and~ that it now wandini g;t over the earthI for the puiiii ose of hin dini g the 1beauu iul girl had lo'vedl. A nd i that same sta r is still utpotn seen by thle l.ntters as t hey journey at nigh t th rougih the uiil1eriness. Knowledge is better than sold. Political. Letter From Gens. Casn. DETROIT, July 10, 1849' DEAft Stt I am much obliged to you for the extracts you have sent mes and for clling my attention to the remarks of some of the whi g papers upon a letter from the editor of the New York Courier and Enquirer, publish. ed in that Journal a short time since, and ire which an effort i s tnade by those papers to convict tme of insincerity. I am sure you will bear witness that I have been heretofore pretty patient under similar attacks, some of them as remarkable for their virulence as for their falsehod-remarkable even in this country, where political investigations are so prone to degenerate into personal abuse; and I had supposed, as the motive had passed away with the occasion, that I should be al lowed a reasonable measure of justice by our opponets, even if my opinions or course should be deemed worthy of examination. But the result shows that I have been deceived; and as no considerat'ons of propriety connected with my position now forbid me from defend ing my consistency, I choose to do so in the present instance. not only because the charge it speciously preferred, but because it is cal culated to place me in a false position before the public. I have delayed writing you for some dars, awaiting the return of Col. Webb, who had gone on an excursion to the Upper Lakes, as I did not wish to refer to him thus public ly, without a previous conversation with him; but he has not yet returned, nor do I knew when he will; and as I am unwilling to be subject to such imputations, without applying the proper corrective, I have determined to delay this answer no longer. I have known Col. Webb from his boyhood, and have never ceased to esteem him. Our personal rela tions have always been kind. Divided in pol itics, we have not ceased to be friends; and he will be as much surprised as I was at the dis ingenuous efforts to convert his letter into the proof of my inconsitency-an idea,, I ass sure, that never occured to him. Nothing I state ir. this letter will be called in questions by Col. Webb; and I may add, that Mr. Gree ley's remarks are written in no unjust spirit; and though I cannot commend his care to as certain the truth, I do not condemn the spir it of his article. Whatever his brethren of the whig press may do, I believe he is dispos ed to do inc justice. I am accused of inconsistency, amounting to disthonesty, in my opinions concerning a protective tariffs internal improvements, ani theextension of slavery. The first I shall. dismiss very briefly, but very explicitly. The BIltiiore resolutions contain my sentiments on the subject of a tariff' And neither to CoL. Webb nor to any other man have I uttered a word inconsistent withthem. I voted for the tariff'of 18i46; and though there were some things I should have been glad to see other wise, (and where there not in such. complica ted questions!) yet I gave it my hearty sup port. I never exchanged a word with Col. Webb on the subject of a protective tariff in my life. Nor does he say I did. Why he supposed I favored it, I know not. It isw enough to say he is in error, as are all who. form a similar conclusion. In the course of conversation betweon.C'e1. Webb and myself, I referred to the last pres idential contest, and to the palpable injustice which hfd been done me by the whig press and politicians in holding up my letter to the Chicago Convention as an evidence of my hos tility to all improvements, however, general. and necessary, by Congress, and to my letter to Mr. Nicholson as evidence of my desire' that slavery should be established in the er rutories ceded by by Mexico to the United, States. I called these eilbrts the humbugs of the day, as they were, and must now be confessed to have been by every candid man. In netiher of these letters is there to be found one syllable favorable to the constructions thus put upon them. The letter to the Chi cago Con'ention miakes riot the most distant allusion to the question of internal improve ieits. A person may be the greatest latitu deniarian, or the strictest constructionist, and yet have written that letter with perfect con sistency, simply because all it does is to de cine biemtg preacent on that occasion. The letter to M r. Nicholson examines and denies; the po~wer of Congress to pass the wilmot' prov~.5o, andii endeavors to show that that. measure would be inexpedient and unneces sary, even it it. were constitutional. This it. its extent. TIhere is not in it, from beginning to end, one word going to show my opinion was that slavery woulId be established there, or miy wish that it should be established there. .All this wi surprise many good men who yet retain the impressions they received durin a period of exciten ent, and w~hich they gaine fromt the press, too often pursuing its object without regard to the higher consideratiods ol justice. Let him who doubts what I say on the subuject oif these letters, turn to them. and read tor hunself' To the lawv and to the testimony. I will now ask Mr. Greelcy-for I respect his candor-what has omy letter to a gent~le mian who invited mue to attend the Chicago C.oniventtin to(do with my own opinions upon the stubject of iniernal improvemnents? I was asked to attend that convention; and that was ail I was asked. I answered 1 should not at tend; anid that was all I answered. And yet flits answer, as I have stated, was circulatedi fronm one end of the Union to the other dun. mug thie late presidentia' contest, as conclu sive evidetnce of my hostility to any improves . moent bty the general goveronent, be the: chiaraicterof the object what it might. I had. suppomseid the dlevi'e- had served its purpose, anid was ..nrng the things that have been. i .ttle did I anttcimate that a man of Mr. Gree hcy's intelligence anid reptutatton for integrity would revive this exploded charge, and would. reter to that letter as furnishing any index to mny set timents on this sub jet, or any groundi to conivet mei of inconsistenecy in my acts or ophinioiis. I didm not go tom the Chicago Con - e t.(ii biecause 1 di not think any good. n oin!d result f rom its labors. I did not be Me , nor do I now believe that such bodies in per'iodis of poliucal exc itetment--perhaps in cedu, a t any in riod--other by the concen tration of pinblie opinion or by the diflbsion of informatinr a enti to nn naenl ,slan of