The national era. [volume], October 17, 1850, Image 2

About The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860

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THE NATION AI ERA
G. BAILKY, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR; JOHN G. WH1TTIER, CORRESPONDING EDITOR.
v,); 1V. m 42. WASHIN(!T().\. THl'KSDAV, QCTOBKH 17. ISoO. WHOLE NO. 198. j
Tlir Sni'oriitl Kra is Published Weekly, ou Serenih
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(rH l.l, <fc Bl.A.Nt HAKI>, PKINTKB8,
wfre.f a few doors south of Pennsylvania ?V?nu?.
I ! i K NATIONAL ERA.
W VSHINGTON, OCTOBER 1 I 1*."'0
' rteu I h iin^irs's Kdinburgh Journal.
HllttfilMl \\ m.THOTli or ids vrivati:
LIFK.
in- public life vt?*l 1 us the private chant, ter
Mirabitu are universally known; but the
following anecdote has not, we believe, twsn re- .
rded in any of the biographies. The particu- ,
were included in the brief {liruibhpft'^i
. !voc.ite-gvui-r.il in th. /Parliament
I f'roveuce. when he was retained tor the de.
fence of \1 idanie Mirabeau in her husbands!
j.r< e-* attainn her. M do G.tlitzine afterward
t llowe i the Hi urbons into exile, aud returned :
with them in l*N ; and it is on his authority that !
the story i? given as fact.
Mirabeau had just been released from the |
duueon of the tfas'le of Vineennes near Paris !
" * 1 1 i
II had I'Ot'ii c< litine 1 mere lor mree years nun
,i h-tlf. bv viriue of tbut most odious mandate. j
h-t. I lis imprisonment h id been of
a most painful nature; and it was prolonged j
v 11)0 instant"* of his father, the Marquis de
Mir?l>e iii. On his being reconciled to his father. ;
i ii , r.? ernerit terminated, in theyear 17S0. when
Mirabeau w..s ihirty-oue years of age.
One of his father s conditions was, that Miral.eati
should reside for some time at a distsnce '
llai- xzb ?> w?s settled that he should go ;
on a visit to his brother-in law. Count du Sail-i
l int, whose estate was situated a few leagues froui !
eh? of Linioges, the capital of the
Accordingly, the Count went to Vincenues to re- j
ceive Mirabeau on the day of his liberation, |
an l they pursued their journey at once with all
speed
The arrival of Mirabeau at the ancient iuanori
.l chateau created a great sensation in th <t re-|
mote part of France. The country gentlemen j
residing in the neighborhood had often heard i
kim spoken of aa a remarkable wan, not only on j
account of his brilliant talents, but also for his |
violent passions; and they hastened to the chute
iu to contemplate a being who had excited their
curiosity to an extraordinary pitch. The greater
portion ot these country squires were mere sportsmen.
whose knowledge did not extend much be- ]
yond the names and qualities of their dogs and
horses, nnd iu whose houses it would have been
almost in vain to seek for any other book than the !
lo il almanac, containing the list of the fairs and 1
markets, to which they repaired with the utmost ,
punctuality, to loiter away their time, talk about ,
their rural affairs, dine abundantly, and wash j
down their food with strong Auvergnc wine.
Count du Saillant was quite of a different
stamp from his neighbors. He had seen the world, j
he commanded a regiment, and at that period his |
chateau was perh ips the most civilized country'
residence in'the Linionsin. People came from a (
considerable distance to visit its hospitable owner ; j
cvfHtg the guests there was acurious mixture j
of proviociil oddities, clad in their quaint cos- I
tumos. At that epoch, indeed, the young Li- |
niousin noblemen when they joined their regiments,
to don their sword and epaulets for the i
l,"L,f 'imp nmpp vprir uliirhflv tn hp <1 iati Iliruish 1 11 !
cither by their routiners or appearance, from their
rustic retainers.
It will easily be imagined, then, that Mirabenu,
wit i wits (rifted with brillant natural qualities. I
cultivated and polished by education?a man.
! iieireorer. w ho had seen much of the world, and j
/i id been engaged in several strange aud perilous
adventures?occupied the most conspicuous post j
in this s >ciety, tinny of the component members ;
whereof seemed to have barely reached the first de- j
green in the scale of civilization. His vigorous ]
li'atue. his enormous head, augmented in bulk by a ,
lofty friz/led co'ffurt ; his huge face, indented with !
seirs and furrowed with seams, from the effect
of small-pox injudiciously treated in his childhood
: hi i piercing eyes, the reflection of the tumultuous
passions at war within him ; his mouth,
whoie expression indicated in turn irouy, disdain,
indignation, and benevolence ; his dress, always
eareitilly attended to,but in an exaggerated style, <
giving him somewhat the air of a travelling char- !
lit .n decked out with embroidery, large frill, and 1
rutlle-i. in short, this extraordiuary-lookiug in- !
individual astonished the country folks even be- !
fore he opened his mouth. Hut when his sonorous j
voice was heard, and his imagination, heated by !
some interesting subject of conversation, imparted !
* a high degree of energy to his eloquence, some of |
the w orthy rustic hearers felt as thongh they were j
in the presence of a saint, others in that of a j
<b vil and according to their several impressions,
they were tempted either to fall down at his feet,
or to exorcise him by making the sign of the cross,
and uttering a prayer.
y ated in a large antique arm-chair, with his j
feet stretched out on the tloor. Mirabeau often
' intemplued, with a smile playing on his lips,
those men who seemed to belong to the primitive
ages, so simple, frank, and at the same time
e wnish, were they in their manners. He
listened to their conversations, which generally
turned upon the chase, the exploits of their
l"g<. or the excellence of their horses, of whose
breed and qualifications they were very proud
Mirabeau entered freely into their notions;
took an interest in the success of their sportin/
projects; talked, too, about crops; chestnuts.
of which 1 irge quantities are proiuced in
the Limousin; live and dead stock; ameliorations
in husbandry and so forth; and he quite
won the hearts of tue company by his familiarity
with the topics in which they felt the most interest,
and by his good nature.
This monotonous life was however, frequently
wearisome to Mirabeau ; and in order to vary it.
and for the Hike of exercise, after being occupied
for several hours in writing, he w is in the habit
ot taking a fowling-piece, according to the custom
t the country, and putting a book into his gtme
no would frequently make long excursion*
on font in every direction. He admired the noble
forests of chestnut trees which almond in the Litoostein
?he va?' meadows where numerous herds
of cattle ol n superior breed are reared ; and the
running Mreitn* by which th it picturesque country
is intersected. He generally returned to the
rli.itiMu l.injj ufti?r sunset, saying that night seenJry
wa? peculiarly attractive to him.
| It w h during and after supper that those con' Tiations
took place for which Mirabeau supplied
the principal an l moat interesting material* He
r'O-isi.xsed the knack of provoking objections to
ah it he inight advance, in order to combat them,
- he did with great force of logic and in enerccic
l*<igit*g? ; and thus he gave himself lessons
hi argument, caring little about his auditory, his
v ! ' aim being to exercise his mental ingenuity
md to cultivate eloquence. Above all, he was
ii I of di basing religious matters with the curf''I
th" parish. Without displaying much latitud
Qiriniisa), lie disputed several points of doctrine
>nd certain pretensions of the church so acutely,
'hit the pastor could say but little in reply. This
'"' inched the Limousin gentry, who. up to that
lime h id listened to nothing but the drowsy dl?'
mrs"s of their cur^s, or the sermons of some ob
ar" mendicant friars, and who placed implicit
' ith in the dogmas of the church The faith of a
* wis shaken, hut the greater number of his
rers were very much tempted to look upon the
vi?i cra?itn emissary of Satan, sent to the chateau
H ' l-ttrciy them The curf, however, ?li<l not ?ieH
"f'l'rof eventually converting IMirabeau.
A' this period. several robberies had takeu
I' "" * at no great distance from the ch&teau : four
H r five farmers had been stopped shortly after
H ti /'.'fall on their return from the market-town",
I 'in 1 roll),,..| ?f their panes Not one of these
! "rsons ha t offered ? r resistance, f >r each preH
rre.) to make a eacr.'ice rather than run the
H r'-k of n struggle in a country full of ravines,
an 1 rovers,1 with a rank vegetation very favoru
1 ' to the caploita of hriganils. who might be
'>iti|t in wait to massacre any individual who
'J'ifht resist the one detached from the band to
H "mand the traveller's money or his life There
outr ige, cense,) f?r a short time, hut they aoon
I r ' '"nmenoed and the robbers remained undis
covered
i>ne erening, about an hour after sunset, a
derived at the chft'eau He wsa one of
"unt ,|,| Stillant's most intimate friends, an I
"" ud his way home from a neighboring fair.
This gentlemm appeared to be very thoughtful,
and spoke but little, which surprised everybody,
inasmuch as he was usually a merry companion.
His gasconade had frequently roused
Mirabeau from his reveries, and of this ho was J
not a little proud, lie had not the reputation of
being particularly courageous, however, though
he of en told glowing tales about bisown exploits;
nud it must be admitted that he took the roars of j
laughter with which they were usuilly received
very good-humorcdly.
Count du Salllant being much rurprised at this
sudden change in his friend's manner, took him j
Aside after supper, and begged that be would ac- j
company him to another room. When they were
there alone, he tried in vain for a long time to
obtain a satisfactory answer to his anxious inquiries
as to the cause of his friend's unwonted
melancholy and taciturnity. At length the visiter
said?
' Nay. nay ; you would never believe it. You
would declare that I was telling you one of my
fables, as you ore pleased to call them, and per
haps this time we might f;?\l out"
" What do you mean 7" cried Count du Saillant.
"This seems to be a serious affiir. Am /,
then, connected with your presentiments?"
" Not exactly you ; but "
" What does this but mean ? Has it anything
to do with my wifle? fftrptniq yourself."
' No. the ifiist in the world. Madame du S?illant
is in nowise concerned in the matter;
but "
' But f?but ! you tire me out with your huts.
Are ynu resolved to worry me with your mysteries
? Tell me at once what has occurred?what
has happened to you?"
"Oh, nothing?nothing at all. No doubt I was
frightened."
" Frightened !?and at what ? by whom ? For
God's sake, my dear friend, do not prolong this
raintul state of uncertainty."'
" Do you re illy wish me to speak out ?"
"Not only no, but I demand this of you as an
act of friendship."
Well, 1 was stopped to-night at about the distance
of half a league from your chateau"
"Stopped ! In what way ? By whom7"
' Why. stopped as people are stopped by footpad*.
A gun was levelled me, 1 was peremptorily
ordered to deliver up my purse; I threw it
down on the ground, and galloped otf. Do not
ask me any more questions"
Why not ? I w ish to know all. Should you
know the robber again ? Did you notice his figure
and general appearance ?''
" It being dark. I could not exactly discover ;
I cannot positively say. However, it seems to
me"
" What seems to you ? What or whom do you
think you saw ?"
" I never can tell yon.''
"Speak?speak; you cannot surely wish to
screen a malefactor from justice ?"
" No; but if the said malefactor should be "
" If he were my own son, i should insist upon
your telling me."
" Well, then, it appeared to me that the robber
was your brother-in-law, MirahkaI'! But
I might be mistaken; and, ns I said before,
fear "
" Impossible; no, it cannot be. Miraheuu a
footpad ! No, no. You are mistaken, my good
friend."
" Certainly?certainly."
" Let us not speak any more of this," said
Count du Saillant. " We will return to the
drawing-room, and I hope you will be ns gay as
usual; if not, 1 shall set youdowu us a madman.
I will ho manage mar our unsence snau nui uc
thought anything of"
And the gentlemen reentered the drawing-rooiu.
one a short time before the other.
The visiter succeeded in resuming his accustomed
manner ; but the Count fell into a gloomy
reverie, in spite of nil his efforts. He could not
banish from his mind the extraordinary story lie
had heard?it haunted him; and at lust, worn
out with the most pninful conjectures, he again
took his friend aside, questioned him afresh, and
the result was, that a plan was agreed upon for
solving the mystery It was arranged that M
De should in the course of the evening mention
casually, us it were, that he was eugaged on
a certain day to meet a party, nt a friend's house
to dinner, and that he purposed coming afterward
to take a bed at the cbtiteau, where he hoped to
arrive at nine in the evening. The announcement
was accordingly made in the course of conversation.
when all the guests were present?
good care being taken that it should be heard by
Mirabcnu, who at the time was playing a game of
chess with the curt;.
A week passed away, in the course of which a
farmer was stopped and robbed of his purse, and
at length the critical night arrived.
Count du Saillaut was upon the rack the whole
evening; and his anxiety became almost unbearable
when the hour for his promised nrrival hud
passed without his having made his appearance.
Neither hud Mirubeau returned from bis nocturnal
promenade. Presently a storm of lightning,
thunder, aud heavy rain, came on, in the midst
of it the bell at the gate of the court-yard rang
loudly. The Count rushed out of the room into
the court-yard, heedless of the contending elements
; and before the groom could arrive to take
hi-> friend's horse, the anxious host was at his
side, llis guest was in the HCt of dismounting.
"Well," said M. De , "I have beeu stop
I V* 2.. 11.. 1.. I Ivltvi tvaw
pen. ii is rcaiiy ue i rcouguistn mm j>nfectly."
Not h woril more was spoken then . hut as soon
as the groom had led the horses to the stables. M
Pe rapidly told the Count that, during the
storm, and as he was riding along, a man, who
was half-eonretied la-hind a very large tree, ordered
him to throw down his purse. At that moment
a flish of lightning enabled him to discover
a portion of the robber's person, and M. Pe
rode at him; hut the robber retreated a few
pares, and then, levelling his gun at the horseman,
cried with n powerful voice, which it was impossible
to mistake, " Pass on or you are a dead man!"
Another flash of lightning showed the whole of
the robber's figure?it was Mirabeau, whose voice
hud already betrayed him! The wayfarer, having
no inclination to be shot, put Bpurs to his
horse, and soon reached the chateau.
The Count enjoined strict silence, and begged
of his friend to avoid displaying any change in
his usual demeanor when in company with the
other guestu; he then ordered his valet to cotne
again to him as soon as Mirab<*?u should return
lialt an hour afterward, \1irat>eau arrived lie
j was wet to the skin, and hastened to his own
room ; he told the servant to inform the Count |
that he could not join the company at the evening
meal, and begged that his supper might he
brought to his room , and he went to bed as soon
as he had supped.
All went ou us usual with the party assembled
helow, eicepting that the gentleman who had had
so unpleasant an adventure on the road appeared
more g<y than usual.
When his gues's had all departed, the must-r
of the house repaired alone to his brother-in-law s
apartment. Fie found him fast asleep, and was
obliged to shake him rather violently before he
could arouse him.
What's the matter 1 Who's there? What do
"A,? *" > ?*? !? ma cwia/1 VliMuhaitii ut arititr ut
his brother-in-law. whose eyes were flashing w ilh
rage and disgust.
" W hat do I want 7 I want to tell you that you
are h wretch!"
" A fine compliment, truly !" replied Mirabeau,
with the greatest coolness "It was scarcely
worth while to awaken me only to abuse me ; go
away, and let me sleep "
' G:n you sleep after having committed so bad
an action 7 Tell me?where did you pass the
evening 7 Why did you not join us at the supper-table
?"
u I was wet through?tired?harassed , I had
been overtaken by the storm. Are you satisfied
now I Go, and let me get some sleep ; do you
want to keep me chattering all night 7"
" I insist upon an explanation of your strange
conduct. You stopped Monsieur I)e on his
way hither this evening. This is the second time
you have attacked that gentleman for he recognised
you as the same man who robbed him a
week ago You have turned highwayman,
then !"
" Would it not have been all in good time to
tell me this to-morrow morning?" said Mirabeau,
wi'b inimitable snnt; J rout. " Supposing that I dul
stop your friend, what of that 7"
" That you are a wretch 1"
" And that you are a fool, my dear du Suillant
1 Do you imagine that it was for the sake of his
money that I stopped this poor country squire 7
I wished to put him to the proof, and to put myself
to the proof I wished to ascertain what degree
of resolution was necessary in order to place
one's self in formal oppposition to the most sacred
laws of society ; the trial was a dangerous one, but
I have mule it several times. I am satisfied with
myself?but your friend is a ooward."
lie then felt in the pocket of hi* waistcoat.
which lay on a chair by hisbod side.anil,drawing
a key from it. said?
" Take this key, open ruy scTvioirr, and bring
me the second drawer on the left hand."
The Count, astounded at so much coolness and
carried away hy an irresistible impulse?for Mirabeau
spoke with the greatest firmness?unlocked
the cabinet, and brought the draw?r to \lin- ;
bean. It contained nine purses: some made ot
leather, others of silk; each purse was encircled
hy a label on which was written a date?it was
that of the day on which the owner had been .
stopped and robbed; the sum contained in tin
purse was also written down
"You see." said Mirabeau. "that I did not !
wish to reap any pecuniary benefit from my proceedings
A timid person, my dear friend, could \
never become a high way nun . a soldier who fightin
the ranks does not require half so much courage
as a footpad. You are not the kiDd of man to ;
understand me, therefore I will not attempt to j
make myself more intelligible. You would talk |
to me about honor?about religion; but these
have never stood in the way of a well-considered i
and a firm reeolve. Toil me, Du Saillant, when
you lead your regiment iuto the heat of battle, to j
coDquer a province to which he whom you call j
your master has no right w hat ever, do you oon-ider
that you are perforiuingsbetfer action than mine
in srojiptng your friend on th King's highway
and demanding his purse?
" I obey without reasoning," replied the Count.
"And I reason without obeying, when obedience
appears to me to be contrary to reason." rejoined
Mirabeau. "I study #11 kinds of social
positions, in order to appreciate them justly I
do not neglect even those positions or cases which
are in decided opposition to the established order
of things ; for established order is merely conventional,
and may be changed when it is generally
admitted to be faulty. Such a study is a dangerous.
but it is u necessary one, for hitn who wishes
tc gain a perfect knowledge of men aud things.
You are living within the boundary of the law,
whether it be for good or evil I study the law,
and I endiavor to acquire strength enough to
? - - t L.J _t . L ?V,..ll
COIPOHl 11 11 11 l?c nuu . W Ilt'U HiC JUUJ'CI HUir ru.?n |
arrive."
"You wish for a convulsion, then?" cried the j
Count.
" 1 neither wish fo Iriog'it about, r/Sr Jo 1 Je-)
sire to witness it; t>ut, should it come to puss j
through the force of public opinion, I would sec- i
ond it to the fuH" exit-to m \iij y*oWeT in such a j
case you will hear tne spokeu of Adieu I shsll |
depart to-morrow; but pray leave me now, and
let me have a little sleep."
Count du Saillant left the room without saying
another word. Very early on the following morning
Mirabeau was on his way to Paris
Kroin the Home Journal.
A.N EDITORIAL VISIT.
BY THFODORK S. FAY.
I was passing from my office one day, to indulge
myself with a walk, when a little, hardfaced
old man, with a black coat, broad-brimmed
hat, velvet breeches, shoes and buckles, and goldheaded
cane, stopped me, standing direetly in my
path. 1 looked at him. fie looked at me. 1
crossed my hands before me patiently, forced my
features into a civil smile, and waited the development
of his intentions; not being distinctly
certain, from his firm, determined expression,
whether he was "a spirit of health or goblin
damned," and whether his intents were " wicked
or charitable "?that is, whether he came to discontinue
or subscribe, to pay a bill or present
one, to offer a communication or a pistol, to shake
me by the hand, or pull me by the uose. Editors
now-a-days must nlways be on their guard. For
my part, 1 am peaceable, and much attached to
lite, and should esteem it ?xceedingly disagreeable
to be either shot or horsewhipped I am not
built for action, but love to sail in (juiet waters;
cordially eschewing gales, waves, water spouts,
sea-serpents, earthquakes, tornadoes, and all such
matters, both on sea and land. My antipathy to i
a horsewhip is an inheritance from l?oy hood. It i
carried me across Cm-tar's hrbige, and through
Virgil and Horace. I am indebted to it for a j
tolerable understanding of grammar, arithmetic, |
geography, and other occult sciences It enlightened
me not a little upon many algebraic processes,
which, to apeak truth, presented, otherwise, hut
slender claims to my consideration. It disciplined
me into a uniform propriety of manners, and
instilled into my hossorn early rudiments of wis- |
dom, .anil principles of virtue. In my inaturer i
years, the contingencies of life have thrust me, j
rather abruptly, if not reluctantly, into the cdito- j
rial fraternity, (heaven hlesa them! I mean them j
no disrespect.) and in the hhiuo candour which
distinguishes my former acknowledgments, I confess
that visions of this instrument have occasionally
obtruded themselves somewhat forcibly upon
my tancy, in the paroxysms of an article, dampening
the glow of composition, and causing certain
qualifying interlineations and prudent erasures.
prompted by the representations of memory
or the whispers of prudence The reader must not
fancy, from the form of my expression, that I
have ever been horsewhipped, i have hitherto
escaped, (for which htaven be | raised!) a'though
my horizon has been darkened by many a cloudy
threat and thundering denunciation.
iV ose-pulling is another disagreeable branch of
the editorial business. To have any part of one
pulled is annoying; but there is a dignity about
the nose impatient even of observation or remark ;
while the art of taking hold of it with the thumb
and finger is worse than murder, and enn only be
washed out with blond. Kicking, cuffing, being
turned out of doors, being abused iu the papers,
icc. are bad, but these are mere minor considerations
Indeed, many of my brother editors rather
pique themselves upon some of them, as a soldier
does on the scars obtained in fighting the battles
of his country. They fancy that, thereby, they
nre invested with claims upon their party, and
suffer indefinite dreams of political eminence to be
awakened in their bosoms I have seen a fellow
draw his hat fiercely down over his brow, and
strut about, with insufferable importance, on the
strength of having been thoroughly kicked by the
enemy.
Thin is a long digr> union, hut it passed rapidly
through my mind us the little, hardfaced olil gentleman
stood before me, looking at me with it
piercing glance ami n rendute air At length,
unlike a ghost, he spoke first.
" You are the editor?"?kc.
A alight motion 'f acquiescence with my head,
and an affirmative wave of my hand, a little leaning
towards the majestic. announced to my unkown
friend the accuracy of hi* conjecture.
The little old gentleman'* face relaxed?he took
off hi* broad-brimmed hat and laid it down with
hia cane ctrefully on the tahle. then seized my
hand and shook it he.utily. people are ao polite
and friendly when about to aak a favour
" My dear air," said he, "this is a pleasure I
have Jong sought vainly. You must know, sir, I
am the editor of a theatrical weekly?a neat
thing in its way?here's the hat number." lie
fumbled about in his pocket, uud produced a redcovered
pamphlet.
" I have been some time publishing it, and,
though it is admitted by all acquainted with its
meruit, to he dearly tin* ri?-*t trnnjr or tnr Kiri'i 1
ever started thin side of the Atlantic yet people
do not seem to tnke much notice of it. Indeed,
i my friends tell me that the public are not fully
aware of i's existence. Pray let me be indebted
; to you for a notice. I wish to jret fairly *tlo?i
You see I have been too diffident atiout it. We
mod net fellows allow our inferiors to pass us
| often. I will leave this number with you Pray,
pray give it a good notice"
lie placed in my hands the eleventh number of
the ' North American Thespian Magazine," devoted
to the drama, and also to literature, science,
history, and the arts. On reading over the prospect
u?, I found it vastly comprehensive, embracing
pretty much every subject in the world. If so
extensive a plan were decently filled up in the
details, the " North American Thespian Magazine
" was certainly worth the annual subscription I
money, which was only one dollar. I said so unI
der my " lierary notices," in the ueit impression
| of my journal . and, although I had not actually
read the work, yet it sparkled so with asterisks,
da>hes, and notes of admiration, that it looked interesting
I added In my critique, that it was
elegantly got up, that its typographical execution
reflected credit on the publishers, that its failure
would be a grievous reproach to the city, that its j
j editor was a scholar, a writer, and a gentleman,
1 and was favorably known to the literary circles j
by the eloquence, wit. and feeling of his former j
productions. What those productions were. I
should have been rather puzzled to ssy, never
j having rend, or even heard of theui This, how- (
ever, was the cant criticism of the day, which is
so exorbitant and unmeaning, and so universally
cast in one mould, that I was in some tribulation. i
| on reading over the article in print, to find that
| I had omitted the words "native genius," which ,
I ' -t'ss a kind of common-law right to a place in all
articles on American literary productions Forth, \
however. it went to the world, and I experienced
a philanthropic emotion in fancying how pleased
the little, hard-faced old geutleman would he with
these HttteriDg encomiums on his "Thespian
Magazine."
The very day my paperwss out, as I was sitting
" full f.ithom five" deep in an article on "the ad- 1
vantages of virtue," (an interesting theme, upon
my views of which I rather flatter myself.) I w.is I
startle,! ),y three knocks at the door, and my !
" come in ' exhibited to view the broad-brimmed
hat of the hard-faced old gentleman, with bis j
breeches, buckles, gold-headed caue. and all. He
laid aside his hat and Cane with the air of a man
who has walked a great way, and means to rest j
himself a while. 1 was very busy. It was one of j
niy inspired moments. Half of a brilliant idea w.is
already committed to paper. There it lay?a fragment?a
flower cut oft' in the bud?a mere outline
?an embryo; and my imagination cooling like a .
piece of red-hot iron ic the open air. * 1 raised my |
eyes to the old gentleman, with'a look ol solemu
silence, retaining my pen ready for action, with
my little finger extended, and hinting, in every
way, that I was " not i' the vein." 1 kept my lips
closed. I dipped thep*u in the ink stand several
times, and held it hc?triug over the sheet It
would imt d>> Tbv old genihwrar w.u< ?? to toi
driven off his ground by shakes of the pen, inkdrops.
or little fingers He fumbled about in his
pockets, and drew forth the red-covered "North
American Thespian Magazine," devoted to the
drama,\o, number twelve He wanted "a 1:001/
notice. The last was rather general. 1 had not
specified its peculiar claims upon the public. I
had rntitnl nnthinir That sort of critiuue did no
good. He begged me to read this can fully?to
analyze it?to give it a caudal examination ' I
was borne down by his emphatic manner; and
being naturally of a civil deportment as well as,
at that particular moment, in an impatient, feverish
hurry to get on with my treatise on the "udvantages
of virtue.'' which I felt now oozing out
of my subsiding brain with an alarming rapidity.
I promised to read, notice, investigate, anal>ze to
the uttermost extent, of his wish<s. or at lea>t of
my ability.
1 could scarcely keep myself screwed down to
common courtesy till the moment of his departure;
a proceeding which he accomplished with a
most commendable self-possession ami deliberate
ppljteuess. When he was fairly gone. I
head out, and called my boy
u Peter."
" Sir."
u Did you sec that little old gentleman. Peter?"
' Yes, sir."
" Should you know him again. Peter?"
" Yes sir."
' \V?11 if he ever come here afirain. Peter tell
him I am not in "
' Yes, sir."
1 reentered my little study,and closed the door
after me with a slam, which could only have been
perceptible to those who knew my ordinary still
anil mild manner. TLere might have been also a
slight Bccent in my way of turning the key. and
(candor is a merit!) i could not repress a brief
exclamation of displeasure at the little old gentleman
with his magatine, who had broken in so
provokingly upon my 1 essay on virtue " " Virtue
or no virtue,"'thought 1, "1 wish him to the d?."
My room is on the ground tloor. and a window
adjoining the street lets in upon me the light and
nir through a heavy crimson curtain, near which
I sit and scribble. 1 w is just enlarging upon the
necessity of resignation, while the frown yet lingered
on my brow, and was writing myself into a
more calm atnl complacent mood, when?another
knock at the door. As 1 opened it. I heard Peter's
nice asserting, sturdily, that I had "pone out"
Never dreaming of my old enemy, 1 betrayed too
much of my person to withdraw and I was recognised
and pounced upon hy the little old gentleman.
who had come back to inform me that he intended,
as soon as the increase of his subscription
would permit,to enlarge and improve the "North
American Thespian Magazine," and to employ all
the writers in town. " 1 intend, also " said he,
ami he was in the art of again laying aside that
overlnnt iug hut .iiu c na, wbev a wy of firs In
the neighborhood, and the smell of the burning
rafters attracted him into the street, where, as I
feared, he escaped unhurt In many respects firet
are calamities; but I ne^er saw a more forcible
exemplification of Shakspeare's remark, " there
is some spirit of good in things evil," than in the
relief afforded me ou the present occasion I
wrote, after that, with niv door locked. This I
knew was, from the confined air, prejudicial to
my health, but what was dyspepsy or consumption
to that little, hard-faced old gentleman?to
those breeches?to that broad-brimmed hat?to
those buckles?to that gold-headed cane?
" Remember, Peter,said I, the second morning
after the foregoing, " 1 have gone out."
" Where have you gone?" inquired Peter, wrh
grave simplicity "They nlways ask me where
have you gone, sir. The little man with the hat
was here last night, and wanted to go after you."
" Forbid it heaven ! 1 have gone to Albany.
Peter, on business."
I can hear in my room pretty much what passes
in the adjoining one, where visiters first enter
from the street. I had scarcely got ootnfortahly
seated, in a rare mood for poetry, giving the lust
touches to a poem, which, whatever might be the
merits of Byron and Moore, I did not think altogether
indifferent, when I heard fhe little old
gentleman's voice inquiring for me
" I must see him, 1 have ioiportant business," it
said.
" He has gone out," replied Peter, in an under
tone in which I could detect the consciousness
that he was uttering a bouncer.
" Hut I must see him," said the voice.
" The scoundrel J" muttered I.
" Fie ia not in town, air," said Peter.
' 1 will not detain him a single minute. It in
of the greatest importance. He would he very
norry, cry, should he mis* me."
I held my hreath?there was a pause?i gave
myself up for lost?when I'eter replied firmly,
" lie ia in Alhauy, sir. Went off at five o'clock
this morning."
" He hack aoon 7"
" Don't know "
" Where does he stay?"
" Don't know "
" I'll call to-morrow "
I heard hia retreating footsteps, and inwardly
reaolnd to give I'eter a half-dollar, although he
<! served to he horsewhipped for hia readiness at
deception. I laughed aloud triumphantly, and
slapped my hand down upon my knee with the
feelings of a fugitive debtor, who, hotly pursued
by a sheriff's officer, escapes over the line into another
county and snaps his fingers at Monsieur
Bail id I was aroused from my merry mood of
reverie by a touch on my shoulder. 1 turned
suddenly It was the hard-faced little old gentleman.
peeping in from the street Ilia broadbrimmed
h.it and two-thirds of his face were just
lifted above the window-sill. He was evideutly
standing on tiptoe ; and the window being open,
he had put aside the curtain, and was soliciting
my attention with the end of his cane
"Ah!" said he, "is it you? Well. I thought
it was you, though I wasn't sure I won't interrupt
you Here are the proofs of number thirteen
you'll find something glorious in that?just
the thing for you?don't forget me next week?
g tod-bye. I'll see you again in a day or two "
I shall not east a gloom over my readers by
dwelling upon iny feelings. .Surely, surely,there
are sympathetic bosoms among them To them I
appeal. I said nothing Few could have detected
anything violent or extraordinary in my manner,
as I took the proofa from the end of the little
old gentleman's cane, and laid them calmly on
the table, i did not write any more about " virtue"
that morning. It was out of the ipiestion.
Indeed, mr mind scarcely recovered from the
shock for several days.
When rny nerves are in any way irritated, I
find a walk in the woods a soothing and agreeable ,
sedative. Accordingly, the next afternoon, I j
wound up the affairs of the day earlier than
usual, and set out for a ramble through the groves
and along the shore of Hoboken I was soon on
one of the abrupt acclivities, where, through the
deep rich foliage of the intertwining branches, I
overlooked the Hudson, the wide bay, and the
su|>?rb, eteepled city, stretching in a level line of
magnificence upon the shining watere, softened
with an overhanging canopy of thin haxe. I
gazed at the picture, and contemplated the rivalry
of Nature with art, striving which oould moat
delight. As my eye moved from ship to ship,
from island to island, and from shore to shore?
now reposing on the distant blue, then revelling
in the nearer luxuriance of the forest green, I
heard a step in the grass, and a little ragged fellow
came up and asked me if I was the editor of
,li? ?? "Knni rsi.lvimr to him affirm
atively, when hi* word* arretted my attention.
' A little gentleman with a hat and cane," he
aaid,' had been inquiring for the editor, at
the adjoining hotel, and had given hint aiipence
to run up into the woods and find him." I rushed
precipitately, as I thought. into the thickest recesses
of the wood. The pith, however. Wing
very circuitous, I suddenly cnuie into if, ?nd
nearly ran against a person whom it needed no
second glance to recognise, although his hack w;ie
luckily toward me The hat. the hrcechea. the
cnue, were enough. It not, part of a red-eorered
pamphlet, sticking out of the coat-pocket, w.m
' If must be number thirteen I exclaimed ; and
as the little old gentleman was sauntering north,
1 shaped my course with all possible celerity in a
southerly direction.
In order to protect myself for the future I took
precautionary measures; and in addition to having
myself denied. I kept the window down, and
made my egress and ingress through a door round
the corner, as Peter told me he had several times
seen the little old gentleman, with a package in
his hand, standing opposite the one through
which we usually entered, and looking at the
office wistf\illy.
By means of these arrangements. I succeeded
in preserving my solitude iuviolate. when, to mv (
indignation, I received several letters from different
parts of the country, written by my friend" '
and pressing upon me. at the solicitation of the
little old gentleman, the propriety of giviug the
I "Thespian Magazine" a good notice. 1 tore the
histi ?, i?s1. ?>? hs ! ieud them into three |
' and dropped them under the table. Business
calling me, soon after, to Philadelphia. 1 stepped
on board the steamboat, exhilarate ! with the idea
that 1 was to have at least two or three weeks respite.
I reached the place of my destination about
five o'clock in the afternoon. It was lovely
weather. The water spread out like unrippled
glass, and the sky was painted with a thousand
varying shadows of crimson and gold. The boat
touched the shore, and while I was witching the j
change of n lovely cloud, I heard the splash of a
heavy body plunged,into the wafer. A sudden
sensation ran along the crowd, which rushed from
all quarter* towards the spot, the ladies shrieked
iiinl turnoil tiwutr llii'ir Koutlu nnil 1 nprpf?i vml
that a m.in had fallen from the deck, and was
struggling in the tide, with only one haud held
convulsively above the surface, Heing a prac- 1
ticed swimmer, I hesitated not a moment, but
flung off my hat and coat, and sprang to hi* res
-mi. With some dittvnvU* ' ?y V iritg
hint to a boat and dragging hint from the stream, j
I had no sooner done so than, to ntv horror and i
^onishmeut) f fix-hi I ,h^ 9i"c<l the litter h ' '
faced old gentleman. His snuff-colored breeches
were dripping before tne?his hrond-hrimmed hat
floated on the current?but his cane (thank Heaven!)
had sunk forever. He suffered no other
[ ill consequences from the catastrophe, than some
j injury to his garments, ami the loss of his cine.
His gratitude for my exertions knew no bounds.
; He assured nte of his conviction that the slight
acquaintance previously existing between us
would now be ripened into intimacy, and informed
me of his intention to lodge at the same hotel
with me. He had come to Philadelphia to hcc
about a plate for his sixteenth number, which
was to surpass all its predecessors, and of which
he would let me have an early copy, that I might
I notice it as it deserved
?
| WASHINGTON' CITY-MRS. SOI TIIUIH1TII.
PtllL.ADRI.PHtA, StJ't' lllk r .'((), 18.10.
To the Kilttor of the National Era:
Mt Pkak Sik: Your beautiful city?our beautiful
city of Washington, is much iu fault towards
thuse who Cannot sit at her queenly feet
forever. How she spoils every other place for us!
I have just been walking in Chestnut street, a
twin in my fancy, until now. to the "goldenest"
street I used to rend of in the Arabian N ightts when
j I was a baby-student on the banks of the Detroit.
| Hut this narrow avenue, those walls of dizzy altij
tude, those flashing colors, crowded all together ;
j those majestic fronts, glorious with architectural
I > l -l 1- ?... ?i|??
symmetry, crunnru uci? u wiuiuu>i|'ii? v ,i,.vd v.
red brick?they ure half-wasted to my eye?very
much?let tue soar loftily for a simile?very much
like graces of ilictiou, ami '-ornaments of rhyme,"
t)u|UUU'iered uuuid the u a re (tort able absurdities of
a Congressional <i? ratio
' | How tny thoughts go back, regretfully, to the
j patrician exclusiveness of your tiue edifices ! The
1 1 grand Capitol, bitting like n monarch on her own
! | royal eminence?the Smithsonian, keeping her
1 state like n noble abbess in her broad domain?
1 | the City Hall, the Patent Otlice, each at the
head of her own lair avenue, and the elegant
Presidential mansion, dwelling in gardens like
1 the cherished daughter of a proud and loving
nation.
' ' Comparisons nrr odioua," and I must not forget
Philadelphia's thousand admirable points, but
as it is diflicult to repress comparison in this particular,
while the strong contrast, unpardonable
to her as to all great cities which I have seen, is
forcing itself on my observation in the streets, I
will ''shut-to the door," ami lock myself up for
nn hour with other thoughts.
Have you a chance nook iu the Km for some
of those stray thoughts ' They are not dovea nor
falcons, hut they will tnke up with any restingplace?from
an eagle's eyrie, perching on a cliff, to
a whippoorwill's leafy covert, nestled hy the
ground Perhaps they are somewhat between
geese and swans; in that case, they will glide
gently enough, as on their own element, down the
sometimes sparkling, sometimes turbid stream of
weekly journal-reading. Shall I send some of
them now-and-then to you?
I cannot promise to be witty, philosophic, or
r.nufU-,.i hut I v, ill tell von what I see and what
I think , and if there \hould conic in an occasional
Hash of poesie, like n meteor in h mist, or u transient
Burn of such philosophy as my experienced
have tiiiifrht me. or a chance gleam of humor here
nud there, like dew drops on a dandelion, why, I
suppose you will like it none the less
I am just brmthinH from the perusul of Mrn
Southworth's wonderful hook, '"The Deserted
Wife." What a glorious dreamer ahein,this fair
concuoj'iiw of yours! Cool-headed and quickthoughted
a* her own charming Brighty?unique
in her eloquence of apeech and fancy, in her unfettered,
true-hearted,and world-claeping charity.
iin her wild llagur of the Went reclaimed. My
heail grows di?y, and my heart faint, thinking of
the high genius and piquant originality of thin
woman, oonreraiog with her variousnnd perfectly
NUHtained charactera, looking through the diamond
lenses of her clear vision at life, its purposes, its
de-tiny.
Hut i? it true 7 Is affection, the sentiment, ho
much the hond-alave of casualties?so like the
nursling of intuitive, unexpressed sympathy?as
the estrangement of M igur and Sophie, the lathyidol
and the girl-worshipper, would make us despairingly
belie**7 And is love, the passion, so
I cruelly orphaned in this worm, ho completely hi
I the mercy of caprice, of circumstance*, of erratic
fancy ami untutored impulse, as we would shudderingly
own?looking at the dark history ot
11 agar h married sorrows? No! a thousand times
no! The gentle bosoms which have pillowed our
head in infant sleep, received, as it safe carcanet,
our precious jewels of confidence, hope, tenderness
and sorrow, (thus it had been with Magar
ami Sophie,) we do not grow estranged from
them?we must understand them?they are ours!
The key which unlocks their golden clasps is it
not safely garnered away in our own heart's innermost
chambers? Are we not sure of them
for ever? Just as w? know that the blessed sun
is shining all the while, though black clouds ol
anger or gruy mists of distrust do sometimes overshadow
it?just as llugar knur the glsd, glad so|
lution of her own life-problem when she wrote
to Raymond?" Your faith in me will save you
Raymond; will make you whole, will redeem you,
will bring you back "
And loir. It is not a mad chance ; only a fearful
infatuation; only a similarity of spiritual
structure, coaxed, cheated by habitual intimacy
into a fancied oneness of soul , an illusion, to lie
diaaolved by tin- trauait of eome new planet, diaaipuled
by the >oial tclijti'. of death.
I know not rightly what it rn?y be , hut I ahould
ciy that It ia the munifeatation in time of <ur
deatiny fur eternity, the recognition in human
hearta of the volition of Clod, electing them tor
giving them to?each other.
" What Coil hath joined together" are the nolemn
and initpiring word* of Scripture. t;*n any
one eerioualy believe that they refer to the mere
external ceremonial which I* conventionally aaid
I to " oonaecrate" the union of pure heart* / Oh !
no, for It U lev which auhotiflc* the marriage
1 vow* , love, the " inward apiritual grace," which
give* to the outward viaible alga all it* eacrednee*,
dignity, and value.
Thua ennobled, thu* conaerrated marriage indeed
become* a holy nacrament, awful in thia lib
with myatery and the ahadowa that fall earthward
from the lifted pinion* of Hope hut for the life
which la to come, " full of grace and truth."
Hut theee are high theme* for a lay-aiater in
the great cloiater of life rerhapa I have gone
beyond ' my brunch of the subject," a* the eldeat
] Miaa Hpenlow would aay
I would like to read a story from Mrs Southworth's
pen. of a truly Christian hero?suffering,
striving, conquering mvt "overcome of eTil.
hut overcoming evil with goo<l one indulgent
tow ?rds others.ami consistent with himself, who.
if his heart happened to have been an arsenal of
deadly steel, or a ningarine of ready explosives.
, yet held the key in his own keeping?subject to
orders from ?Ae>>?and who had traced over the
iron doorway, in letters of silver, this writing? j
' " Holiness to the Lord!*-'
Will you do it. sweet lady? Gifted woman
magnificent sybil that you Hre! Will you strike
that troubadour s harp of yours to the grand story ]
, of some Cut C<iw]?<nlor on the field of Christian j
| war? "Campeador c/rrrvt?Caropeador not
through his own strength, but through his great
faith, his warm love, and his soul-felt acknowledgment
that these elements of conquest are not
his own, but lent him, with usury, from Heaven!
Ami. not with more admiration perhaps?for
that may be impossible?but with more hopefulness
and higher joy, we will thank you for the
noble task
" determined, dared,ant done;"
and grow better for the example, and stronger j
for the consolation.
I have visited Mrs South worth with so long a
t-u-ti-'rit that time is only left for my parting
*>urt?iy to the Lditor of the Era, and toy grateful
adieus to those who have accompanied me
with friendly patience until now
Respectfully, yours, II. C. II
LETTER TO J. CLEMENS FROM I FKT0R1
OPERATIVE.
Siakk Mii.i.s, Manchkstkk, N. II.,
rthfmry 1W, ltvrt).
Siu: The interiogatories contained in your
famous letter, addressed to Z S. Wallingford, of
Dover. in this* State. respecting the condition of
the factory operatives at the North or "slaves,-'
as you in the ardor of your gallant patriotism are
pleased to call them, hare been fully and fairly
answered through the medium of the public journals
That these severnl answers to your interrogatories
contain something more to your purpose
than unmeaning eulogies upon the moral
and intellectual cnlfutv ?r<><7r laborers is a fact,
which we trust you will hive the frankness to
acknowledge.
id. lis. tvre t*? ''.(iudsci ,(>y ?4i* v* j
deep-rooted prejudice, or infatuated by the im- |
pulse of a morbid ambition, matured and brought i
into action by a misguided zeal in your efforts to
bolster up and perpetuate the accursed system of
Southern slavery, at the expense of all that is sacred
and hallowtd in the name of liberty, you
cannot but discover that the legitimate tendency
; of your interrogatories and the answers resulting
1 from them has been to render your position u po!
culiarly unfortunate one in the estimation of an
I enlightened public?a position which must he as
| mortifying to your constituents, as it is dishonor\
able to yourself, as the representative of a tree
neoiile in the hiirher branch of our National
I Legislature.
Ilml the shafts of your bitter contumely been
hurled at those of your own sex, in your ignorance
of their true condition, you might be led
to suppose occupied the degrading position of
' slaves," there would have been for you some
plausible excuse?some apparent ground of justification
for the extravagant and unqualified assertions
involved in your iuvidious comparison of
the condition of the factory operatives of the
North with the "black slavery ' of the South
But let me remind you, sir, of the fact, that of
those " day laborers" to whom you allude as a
class, as being subjected to a " horrid tyranny,
Compared with which the Southern slave is h ippy
indeed," seven-tenths of them are females?New
Kngland females?educated from early childhood
in the school of liberty, and having learned the lessons.
and imbibed all the principles of a just
equality, tlfry acknowledged no man as a "taskmaster."
Possessing all the elements of a laudable
independence, they scorn the tyrant, and despise
slavery in all its horrid and complicated
forms as heiug the "Upas of the moral world,
under whose pestiferous shale all intellect
languishes, and all virtue dies." You sty,
sir, you allude to the Northern laborers in a
stunt of commiseration and tint vou meant noth
ing harsh or unkind 10 them. We thank you
kimlly, air, for this exercise of your generous
sympathy, not your influence iu alleviating our
condition. \Vc urc the arbiters of our own fortunes;
our time is our own, und what we acquire
by honest industry we claim, and feel perfectly
happy and contented in the sphere in which an
all-wise and gracious Providence has called us to
move and act.
Rather let your commiseration he lavished on
those poor, unfortunate, down-trodden beings
which make up a part of your constituency, ami
who are now withering and groaning under the
lashof cruel and relentless task-masters If your
commiseration for us has resulted in tears, let
them tlow in a channel broad and deepat the base
of the uliar of slavery, until they shall form a
mighty cataract, effectually undermining the disgraceful
fabric reared in blood and tears, and
baptized with the immolation of human victims
Were we, in fact, the poor, miserable, degraded
beings which your deluded fancy has pictured us
to he, and which your fervid imagination leads
you to believe we are, we might well deserve your
sympathy, if, sir, in point of native talent, education
moral virtue, integrity of purpose, refine
incut of sentiment, to say nothing of personal attract
iona, if in nil that serves to constitute the
hit 111 total of female accomplishments, the female
operative in New Kngland will not hear a ooropnriMD
nil, your wives and daughters of the
South ami Weat,-thru moat assuredly we have
not yet horn ho fortunate as to behold a specimen
of your first i|iiality ; yet we have seen Southern
IndicH whose pretensions would lend iih to lielieve
that they were richly entitled to all the claim* of
superiority.
For aeven years in succession, I have been nn
operative in the Stark Mill* Cloth Itoom. During
thiH period, three of my niont intimate friends
and companion*, operative* in the millH, have, by
a prudent huNbnndry of their time, and the improvement
of their leisure hours, acquired an education
competent to their beooming teachers in
any of our high schools, and are now reaping the
reward of our laudable efforts in the cultivation
of their minds, in the capacity of governesses and
teachers in private families in Southern cities.
Nor would we have you regard these as solitary
instances ol self-educated females employed in
our mills, hundreds go from our manufacturing
villages yearly to the South and West, as teachers,
and are encouraged so to do by Christians
and philanthropists as being preeminent, no' for
their beauty alone, for this dwells only in the
lustre of a well cultivated mind, but for their
moral, religious, and scientific attainments. You
will be ready, sir, I think, to admit that my e t
perience an operative, In the department in
which I um engaged, moot, in u tneuHiire ut leant,
"(iiulify me to judge with Home degree of correctne.h<?.
uh to the mornl and physical condition of the
operatives in o?r mills, un>l having become thoroughly
Hc<|iiuintf(l with factory life in nil its
varioua phones, you will allow me, in oandor, to
state, that, no far aa I nrn i|ualitied to judge, in
point of general intelligence, and in all that pertaina
to moral virtue and cheerfulness of disposition
hn a claaa. they would not sutler in Ooinpariaon
with any other claaa of men and women
within the circumference of the world. And that
I may he austained in my assertions, you have
only to viait our tnilla <1 o into any or all of tbc
lill' rent apartmenta of lahor in the mills, and
you will not only be greeted with bright eyes and
smiling facea, but you will observe that neatnena
order and the utmost circumspection prevail, and
n.y word for it, sir, your eara will not be pained
with words of crimination and recrimination, nor
with loud and boisterous faultfinding, but on the
con*rary, you will find the utmost courtesy, nuttuil
good feeling, and a scrupulous regard for
each other's interests, universally prevailing.
.Should you viait us, you will find us busily en- '
gaged in our nana! avocationa, nor do we wish to
diagui e the fact, that we nre the "sons nnd
daughters of toil," nor do we, from the fact that '
we urc such, require your sympathy We have !
been educated from infancy in the habits of iuduatry,
and thua we have learned to diacovcr in i
honest labor, free labor, if you like the terin bet- j
ter, a dignity which, in our view, makes even toil
itself an intrinsic virtue. It may literally be auid
of us that " we earn our bread by the sweat of our !
brow ' but air, this renders it not the less palatable
A ml, as you have pertinently asked the <jueslinn,
" what is the kiud aud ipiallty of food we
consume7 ' we answered simply that wo did u not
live on bread alone," and living in the enjoyment
of excellent health, a good conscience, and a keen
appetite, we leave you to draw your own inference
In resjiect to the i|uantity we ahould be likely to
consume. There are varioue sources, too, from
which we derive nutriment, for the mind as well
as the body. We are ooustaat iu our attendance
! on public worship. Most of us are teacher* or
scholars in the Sabbath school. We ilso !..??
I access to extensive libraries, and enjoy the pie i
ure of listening weekly to popular lector** 1..
i fore the lyceum. ami in r??l?Iition to many otl,esources
of information, we tike "the pa| ^
write for them occasionally rea'l politic ,1 speeches,
ami censure or applaud as we please the efforts
of our public servants jr. Congress, as their pi 1 ti
cal principles do or do not comport with our i! .
of right or wrong; nnd when stigmatir'd <
slaves, we take an honest pride in hurling back
the vile slander into the very face and eyes of the
man who dares to utter it My dear sir. you
have undertaken an Herculean task, if you fLin'
to f?sten on the Yankee girls the opprohious epithet#
of 'slaves." by any comparison which you
can conjure up or dream of in your philosophy
I close with an invitation fur you to visit us as
time and circumstances may ?uit your convenience
We should Is1 happy to we vou And should j
come among us. as vou behold us in the prose- iition
of our honest labors, let the b(\w>h of eliame
ttttvnlW your cheeks, that in your ' $nor*!irr of our * ?
true condition, in your place in the Seuato Chamber
of the I'nited States it w a left for you to
apply to us the loathing anil disgraceful epithets
attached to slavery in any of its forms
Yours. 6tc, Nam v P. Hrai.kv.
I[j? J. Cltvion, A' '"i
FREEDOM Til POSTERITY
To iff Eiftior of iff Xu'ioiiiil Era:
Pi Hi Sm In looking over the speeches thai
have l??n delivered during the prew n? session i i
Congress. 1 am happy to discover a professed deposition
on the part of all to "stand hy the CotHtit
111ion.'' Perhaps tl?*-re is no clans of speak< rwho
have dwelled longer or piped louder up u
this topic than the propagandists of slavery. |;y
the term ''propagandists of slavery. I mean the
whole compromising host. 'I'o this clissof speakers.
I beg the leave of submitting through y ur <
crowded columns a few particulars
First for what was the Constitution framed '
Verily, you say. go to the preamble, that is the
exponent of those principles for the protection < f
which this "supreme law of the land" was ordained
an I established^. Well, in consulting said
preamble, I am fed by the exercise of my tni/ '
powers of reason to conclude that there are a
number of elauees there which come in fearful
eotdViel wtVh the perpetuation by eompftfl?W vr
otherwise, of the " peculiar institution:" one only
of which shall burden your attention at this time.
'Tig this: " We, the people of the United States,
in order to secure the blessings of i-mim y to ourselves
and "o'/r posterity,'' do ordain and establish
this Constitution for the United State* of Auteii
ci." Thin clause makes "?// /sM/criry " fn ;
therefore nil who acknowledge the supremacy 01
the Constitution must giro their "ponltriti; " free
dont Now then it is a notorious fact. conceded
hy nil, thnt many, very many of American slaves
are mulattoes, not negroes. Whence came this
white Mood that course* through their veins '
\newer this ye who wouhi "stand l?y the Constitution."
ye who daily gate upon their hleeding
hack* and sweating brows, ye who of % truth do
know Answer this, ami Mush for shatw.
It is said of old. "that a word to the wise is
sufficient,''and nt present, we pursue otrr theme
no further than to ndd the priyer, that, during
the adjournment of Congress, the Secretary of
State,accompanied with Senators and Represent
atives, will take his travels Southward, well supplied
with "preambles," and find how many who
now taste "unrequited toil'' by virtue of that
preamble, are freemen and then in the second
session of the Thirty-First Congress, show, he by
his official influence, and they by their votes, th it
their respect for the Constitution is not nil / /'tiion,
but that facts. Constitution, and con
science, ean work n noble work
A. 8 Il*ni.
A'le /?yw, Ohio, Si )>t. 'J'I,
Si'ak t *, It an not,en Co., It.t., 8>)il 'J, lb.Ml.
To th- Kilitoi of th National Km:
I>i ah Sin ;?Although this section of country
is tuit little known, and consequently htirauin I. .
little attention abroad, yet it is somewhat important
in an anti-slavery point of view, being the
most southern part of the State where there is
any anti-slavery organization, or, indeed, any
anti-slavery feeling in that respect, almost like an
Oasis in the desert. It was partially settled near
thirty years ago bv emigrants luuallv of the ,
Associate Reformed Presbyterian, and Reformed
Presbyterian denominations from Newhery, Fait
field, and Chester districts, South Carolina, who
lied from the prison-house of .Southern
fo escape the evils of slavery This population
hits hern augmented from time to time by accessions
from New Kngland, New York, Pennsylvania,
Ohio, and a lew from sotne of the other
States, iitnl of lute years it very respectable mid
steadily increasing emigration from Scotland
True to the old proverh, " birds of a fe ither llork
together.'' A large majority are mill anti-alavery,
the free-HoilerH polling double the number of vol en
of all others in thia precinct. For intelligence,
morality, and religion, thia vicinity will compare
favorably with any portion of the country Fast or
VVeaf. Within a circle of twelve or fourteen
milea each way from thia place there are no less
than sixteen churches, one or two in progrean of
erection, mostly large, valuable brick edifices,
the most of them belonging to the different Presbyterian
denominations, with some to JVlcthodiats
and liaptists
I'y a statement in the rule of three, your
readers will bo able to tell, or at least to come
near enough to the number of school-houses in
the same bounds, as I believe they will generally
be found to be in proportion to each other. Southern
Illinois is sometimes called Kgypt, the nnnte,
as we are told by some, originating in the fact of
the far-famed American bottom being so productive
of corn, and for many years furnishing the
inore northern parts of the State, in timeH of
scarcity, with that very necessary article?by
others, originating from the intellectual darkness
arid rather benighted state of the inhabitants
We have no objection to the name, from whatever
it may have arisen ; but you will recollect, there
u/.iii ii ftimt.i.n in I-'ir 1/1if Kiwl hi1 would sturirest
whether this he not the place. Sparta in in the
Northeastern part of tho country, forty-five
miles from St. Louis, nr><( nil torn miles from
Chester, on tin- Mississippi, to which u turnpike
road i* contemplated, in surrounded hy a fertile
and flourishing country, many good firm* with
Milt>utuntinl and oomf'orfuble houses and barns, a
gooilly number of tine orchard*; Rome of the finest
poached in the United States are raised in thin
vioinity Two nowspnpers are published her*1,
one free aoil, the Sjiarta Fn'mnn, edited and published
tiy J. N. Coleman, is ably Hiid tastefully
conducted, and is exercising a healthful influence
on the literary, moral and anti-slavery sentiments
of the community. A largo number of newspapers
and periodicals from a distance are taken
here?among newspapers 7V National Km and
Snitiriliii/ 1'imtrr come in for a large share.
The village, by the census just taken, numbers
47') inhabitants, has six stores, two apothecaries,
mill no groeriai. There is more business done
here than In any place of its siite I have ever been
aripininted with Hast or West There are a considerable
nnmber of mechanics, of which, however,
there is great lack in moat branches There
are two churches in the plare one A It. Presbyterian,
and one Methodist, with others at no iuconvenient
distance a steam saw .ami (louring
mill, and an additional one projected to he of
large capacity.
An excellent steam-power-loom woollen factory
has gone into operation this season. Persons
from Nteubenvllle and I tayton, Ohio, who have
visited this place, consider it a good location for
manufacturing, from the abundance and cheapness
of coal, which is supplied at present from
pitN n iniiw nn i u niur uihiuiii. I ney are some
Iwrnty-hve f?t deep, the coat aeven feet in thickn?*M,
it l? rained to the aurface by horae power,
and iit of eicellent quality. Home of the beet
jii I|foh are of opinion that, taking into conaideration
the coat of darna, the ton* of time hy freezing,
by high and low water, that where fuel ia aooheap
iin here, that ateam in, on the whole, a more protitahle
power than water. The cheupnea* of proviaionN,
the low price of wood, and the opportunity
which the aurrounding country preacnU for diapoaing
of gonda of the heavier kinda.it ia thought
will be favorable to thia place aa a manufacturing
point. The health la aa good here a* in mont
parte of the Went The u*e of bitqminoua ooal
ia thought by medical men to be in aome meaaure
nn antiilotc to fevera nnd other di?ea?en to which
portion* of the Went are aubject. 1/iat winter,
aome '>00,00(1 II* of pork, worth W per 100 Iba,
were aalted here, and I'.',000 galloua of caator oil,
made, worth *1 -V) per gallon The caator hem
ia more eiteneively raiaed In thla vicinity than
in any other part of the country ; it in eaay of
production, not more ditlioult than corn, and ia
cultivated much after the aame manner. It generally
pay* the producer well; the average yield
J